Alone with yourself

I hope that when it is a Saturday at twelve o'clock at night and the weights of loneliness are leaving you overwhelmed in their existence, you won’t send a dove for the person who calls you friend when your particles no longer have the attraction that he seeks to belittle.

I want to have faith that when it's Sunday afternoon and your ears burn from the echo of your footsteps, you don't think about going back to streets where the dead are better left in ashes than caught in the wounds on your back.

I have to believe that if you are in the park and the space is too big for your bones, but too small for your demons, you won't look at the buildings with a passion on your lips that no one has ever received from you.

I hope that when you are locked in your soul with slippery fingers you don’t fall into the sins that have brought you to my memory, that you actually remember the shine in the tears of your pain and that you repeat your name as if it were the only prayer of salvation that you will ever need when the world sucker punches you

 

Ta.

Call me lover

Call me friend but do not say it as a corral, do not use it as a diminutive that gives you the height that your ego never gave you.

Do not call me friend as if you were calling a dog in the street to not feel alone another night, don’t do the stupid thing to forget that the dog survived the hell that your glasshouse hid from you.

Call me friend as if it were the battle cry that my name demands, do it with the fear that love can rob me from you and use it as your Berlin wall.

Tell me friend when it's midnight and you pretend to be drunk to sleep in my arms, do it as two assholes use it for a scam.

Tell me friend as if you were imploring me that we should respect the rules and not hurt ourselves, do it as if you expect me to find your feelings protected on it but never call me friend as if it was another passing nights.

Ta.

What did I do?

I did it

I tried

I accepted it

I looked for it

I stayed in a corner crying for help

while hugging my knees and waiting for a saviour

I hide in the denial of pain

I destroyed myself with a cold desire for more

I do not know what happened

I knew I wanted

it was impossible to say no

I was not looking for this wound

that was like returning to my home

I wasn't tired

I wasn't finding the explanation

I was entertaining the option like an addict 

I forgot at the first blink

I marked my veins in the burning

I drowned in white fear

I lost it

I tried

I thought it

I planned it

and I don't know if I failed

or survived.

TA.

The girlfriends

My friends grabbed the poison from my veins and spit it out from their lips, they used their bare feet to burn your ashes and they changed the will.

They grabbed my hands to tell me that my prints could create better art that wasn't dedicated to your genocide.

They erased the tears that had your touch of silk and explained to me that my constellations should not be dedicated to waste like you.

They told me that they understood that my wounded heart was trying to love you to your torments for not wanting to accept what it deserved. Still, they led me down the path that would light the dull eyes of my soul.

They gave me the tools to rebuild the abandoned town of my bones, the one I had forgotten when your beautiful words came with destruction and deceit.

They gave me their blood and sweat so that I could stand on my own two legs and remember what it was like to breathe without your shadow haunting every corner.

 

Ta.

The idiot

Oh, this stupid heart went and fell in love with you in a child’s fall and gave up everything.

He went in search of an answer in your eyes and forgot that behind him there could be a world demanding to be lived. He did it in the dark and with every intention of dying in the poison of your arms.

The poor is an idiot and he lowered himself to your level to hear the rumbling of my name in your ribs.

Oh, but tragedy struck for you and him when my brain demanded control of the ship and brought kicking and tormenting everything that had been buried. Thus going with correct and healthy decisions for being tired of continuing to cry for every pretty face that those damn eyes could hide.

And for that, he said enough with the assisted suicide of all those times that the idiot went and proclaimed the name of each star as a rival of your beauty.

He said that we were better off with knowing the dark side of the moon and all the rings of Saturn, let us understand what it is that destroys us and let’s lose ourselves in the eyes that have the colour of our earth that has been pleading for mercy for more than fifteen years.

And well, oh, of you who believed the heart when the brain was seducing reason.

 

Ta.

Eyes and fingers

Sometimes I miss the simplicity of how complicated we were, our language was body language. My arms stretched out with anxious hands, was a: "please hold me, the world is drowning me." your lips on my neck were: "please hide me that the  eyes remind me that I still exist." We were two pieces that had been pushed and found to coexist in the silence of the corners where we spoke with our eyes and fingers.

It's that many times at the hour I miss how it was that I didn't have to think about it. I only felt the redoubling of your veins through my body and I could breathe a little lighter with feeling your heat a blink away. And I know that your fingers that left traces on my clothes found calm in the footsteps that were always like shield and sword to you.

That's why I miss how it was that we were balanced on a knife-cut rope. We were to shared smiles and the joke had never been told. Your shoulders were where my nightmares never reached and my arms were where your tears always died.

We were a balance that was hard to find but easy to break and at the end of the day what I miss is not as simple as your kiss on my cheek and my smile on your hand. But it's as basic as your back on my door and my legs on your land.

 

Ta.

Definition of beauty

Beauty tips

The marks that you make with hatred leave them in the parts that not even you can kiss. Make it all dirty, brand with blood and damage everything you once proudly displayed, when there was still no definition for innocence.

Make everything a secret, your broken mirror will be the confessional of all the tears that you have wasted by making your skin of marble and your eyes more hollow, as to never see how it is that all you want is acid rain that only seeks to kill you in ideals that are impossible for someone who was born with curves like terrain.

Clean your face with soap, with creams, with water, remove the colour of your skin, put on red cheeks and practice the red-lipped smile with the teeth that paint the lips purple. Practice to weariness how to stop being you and learn from the Mona Lisa smile how to please the puppeteer.

Learn fast that time passes quickly for those of our body. Do it as if it were the first teaching that was given to you after the guilt stuck to your forehead.

Learn to be a false person, to have a DNI without identity and to repeat the echo they want from you. Learn from broken lips and knees to fall, learn that our beauty comes with the death of a broken back and spread legs. Learn that they have stolen all rights from us from the moment they passed us from the womb to hands, that we have lost our goals since their favourite adjective for us is beauty with delicacy. Learn to renounce that you hide something behind your eyes because your attractiveness is what will earn you the benefit of life

And that even when the world only sees you as a product on a black market, learn that you have no value but to smile, turn and pose because we are beautiful to everyone except us.

 

Ta.

Always mine

I want to call you mine

I want to call you mine

I want to call you mine

but

I’m tired of being the sacrifice that our beginnings seek

I'm exhausted from being the one to put on the gloves and fight breathlessly for  this heart to beat

I have gotten tired to the muscles of continuing to run for a trade that is taking my years away.

I want to be able to say that I love you

But

You have spent me with the way that you are a rainbow of moods that has a coin in the air and my balance is breaking

You have betrayed my heart for the last time with your words that are expectations bathed in acid for this insane brain that is still waiting to have you

You have embarrassed me until my last plea because my hands no longer have the reflexes to survive every fall that your shadow brings to my presence

and

I want to be able to say that I hate you

But

You look at me

You kiss me

And I want to call you mine.

Ta.