Onomatopeia na terceira pessoa

She leaned on his chest, opened her mouth as if she was about to say something but no words came out... He was staring at the wall, hypnotized by an emotion he was not able to deal with. With some effort she started talking, even though she was not certain her words would reach his ears. At least his heart beat was there, his skin was under her head, and that was all she needed to continue:

- I won't let go of myself because I don't know you'll be there to grab me... I can fall on my own, I can land on my feet or on my head, but I'll never know if you are willing to scratch yourself a little bit to prevent my wounds... So, in the meantime, there will be pieces of me that scatter into trust, but they will never come together to throw themselves from the edge. I am much older now than I can take, much older in my thoughts, much older in my senses, much older in the way I recognize events and situations. I can see through people, through gestures, through words, through looks... But even if I can see through you, I will never have my reflection shown in what you are. I can't run away from you, so I'll just walk backwards slowly until the horizon has swallowed you and you'll be no more than a setting sun you'll always remember for its beauty...