It is painful to open my eyes and find myself in superficiality, Nestled in the wreckage that this lucidity left behind.
It is the stillness, the closest step that gnaws at me — Inevitably.
That millisecond that distanced your cold hand From my warm self.
I foresee a greater pain when The fragment of this memory is flung into space, Hollow.
And the sudden martyrdom, rethought thousands of times About the avoidability of abandonment.
I lean my heavy head along the long arm of an aged sofa. I throw my body there, like a slaughtered animal, Awaiting dissection.
I feel watched through the ceiling, Which resembles the edges of a familiar abyss. Beautiful, transparent, yet sharp.
I close my eyes. Waiting for the subtle, dazed drowsiness of anguished wanderings To put me to sleep, imperceptible, imprecise and sweet.
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 4:20 PM UTC
Through the infinite circle of glass and rite that carves the world into a cold and gray quadrant... There is no dilemma to silence the inquiry: where does the liturgy of effort end and the autophagy of the fragile soul in prediction begin?
The line drawn with an iron chalk, in a semantics of loss and of glory. The error is not in the shot, nor in the mistake, but in confusing martyrdom with a possible victory.
It is upon the lens that blurs with the warm breath of a near-death experience, that one can delight in eternal doubt: whether the impulse felt in the chest is what still moves or if it is just the vacuum of any given afternoon that slowly dissolves me.
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 4:18 PM UTC
Adentraste nas rubras e definhadas catedrais
do meu coração solitário,
dos monumentos em decomposição,
de paredes escuras, sombrias,
emboloradas.
Adentraste por entre rachaduras
e perpétuas das imensas paredes sem cor
das multifacetas esculturas
e dos quadros sem faces.
Encaraste mil olhos petrificados,
testemunhas ávidas da dor.
Escutaste passos pesarosos
em um chão cheio de mármore,
que guardava carcomidos ossos fadigados.
Pairava o silêncio, soberano.
Empoleirada, encontraste
minhas imensas prateleiras,
coleções das minhas desilusões.
Alcançaste, por fim, um altar
no qual jazia meu peito
esculpido em pedra fria,
abrigo de seres rastejantes.
Indagou-se se ousaria tocá-lo.
Algo poderia ser revelado...
Mas um sussurro frio
dissuadiu-te do toque.
E a mão, já quase estendida,
recolheu-se.
Então, os imensos portões rangentes
fecharam-se mais uma vez.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
A Heart in Ruins - The Lament of the Lonely Cathedrals
You entered the crimson and withering cathedrals
of my lonely heart,
of monuments in decomposition,
of dark, shadowy
mildewed walls.
You entered through cracks
and perpetual ones of the immense colorless walls
of the multifaceted sculptures
and the faceless paintings.
You faced a thousand petrified eyes,
eager witnesses of pain.
You heard heavy footsteps
on a floor full of marble,
which kept decayed, weary bones.
Silence hovered, sovereign.
Perched, you found
my immense shelves,
collections of my disillusions.
You reached, at last, an altar
upon which my chest lay
sculpted in cold stone,
a shelter for crawling beings.
You wondered whether you’d dare touch it.
Something might be revealed...
But a cold whisper
dissuaded you from the touch.
And the hand, already almost outstretched,
withdrew.
Then, the immense creaking gates
closed once again.
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 8:24 PM UTC
"Sede inabalável!", rugiam em altos brados
as vozes hostis, enquanto o mundo em
volta me roubava a alma.
Pouco a pouco, a matéria dissolvia-se, as partículas ínfimas
de ternura.
Açoitava-me o eco de vozes
detratoras, pulsando em meu peito, já
retalhado, a agonia cega.
O acalanto de outrora, doce e brando,
convertido em flagelo, hinos de infâmia e
sentenças severas.
Ao longe, avisto a lápide,
a desdita há muito tempo esculpida.
A névoa
da aurora, fria, sorveu de meus
olhos o derradeiro pranto. Em escombros
de corações putrefatos, faria minha nova
morada.
Nem arcanjos celestes, nem hostes
infernais acolheram minhas súplicas.
Depuseram-me, pois, sobre a ara fria
da morte e, em silêncio, a cerimônia se
encerra, deleite aos olhares vorazes e
profanados.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Between Voices and Ruins: Surrender
"Be unshakable!" roared the hostile voices, while the world around me stole my soul.
Little by little, matter dissolved, like tiny particles of stability.
The echo of detractors' voices lashed me, throbbing in my chest, already torn, a blind agony.
The lullaby of yesteryear, sweet and gentle,
converted into a scourge, hymns of infamy and
severe sentences.
In the distance, I saw the tombstone,
the misfortune carved long ago.
A mist
of dawn, cold, ice-cold in my
eyes, the final cry. In the rubble
of rotting hearts, I would make my new
home.
Neither heavenly archangels nor infernal hosts welcomed my pleas.
He then placed me on the cold altar
of death and, in silence, the ceremony
ends, a delight to the voracious and
profaned gazes.
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 7:49 PM UTC
Em completo frenesi, sou barco à deriva,
navegando entre o despertar e o torpor
que me cativa.
Passo horas a velejar
pelas névoas de um oceano violento,
náufrago do amor, deserdado, aprendendo
a remar em completo desalento.
Ainda assim, busco ancorar
minhas raízes secas em algum cais.
Relutando em acordar - quero que o
balanço frenético do casco gasto me
arraste sem fronteiras, até que eu aprenda,
enfim, a amar o mar.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
In complete frenzy, I am a boat adrift,
navigating between awakening and the torpor
that captivates me.
I spend hours sailing
through the clouds of a violent ocean,
castaway from love, abandoned, learning
an observation in complete despondency.
Still, I seek to anchor
my dry roots to some dock.
Reluctant to wake—I want the
frenetic rocking of the worn hull
to capture me without boundaries, until I learn,
finally, to love the sea.
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC