She laughs between every word she says, the smile never leaves her face, and it's beautiful, she has this je ne se pais that leaves you lost in her eyes. Because God, if she knows how to laugh with her whole body, from the stomach to lips, from tears to wrinkles, and never, in your whole life, have you seen something more tragic. 

Because she laughs, and laughs, and laughs, while your fingers turn in pleas of stop because it isn't beautiful, it's horrible, it's sad, and you want her to cry, to crumble and to fall. 

You don’t want the laugh of angels and greatness, you don't want the laugh of stars and fireflies, you don't want her tears to be sweet and her kisses to be of porcelain.

You want it to hurt, for her screams to be of a banshee, for her hands to be claws to Hades, for her eyes to be pleas. You don't want her to play the ludo but to tell you all the truths that she doesn't hide behind the masks that are bathed in trauma. 

You want her to stop everything that she believes that protects you from her and her lies, you want her to stop being as she should be and to be as she is. Because it hurts, it kills you how she looks at you and laughs, and laughs, and laughs, it’s a shivering of grave 24hrs a day and God you know how to beg because she never stops. 

She looks at you, she speaks, and it’s: “Please, God give her the strength to face her demons”, she finds you, she tells you, and it’s: “Jesus, please give her the courage to tremble the lips and let the tears fall”, it’s that she sees you, she laughs, and it's: “Please fall into my arms that I would die holding you” 

But, she only knows how to laugh, laugh, laugh, because she tells you that if she cries, if she accepts it, if she falls, if she crumbles, if she shakes, the house could never return to its foundations.

TA.