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Sometimes
I look at these hands of mine
And out of the blue
I find those unexplainable
Ink marks
All over my palms
my forearms
And it makes me wonder
All about basic questions
Who
What
When
Where
And why
I keep recalling
My days and nights
But I wasn't writing anything
I just woke up
I search my bed for
Any pen lost in the sheets
But still there is
Nothing
And that intrigued me
So that twisted
Poetic brain of mine
Pushed me to believe
That we're nothing
But an incarnation
Of all our ancestors'
Screams of joy and lust
Cries and tears
And this inky rash
Is nothing
But those words
Those lost pleads
Of all living poets
Urging
Begging to come out
Out of our pale skins
To face
And only to face
The person standing
In the mirror
I'm standing
still on my feet
smooth breeze
moving my short hair
feeling it cold
against my cold skin
asking why
why am I still here
why didn't I just
walk away
from him
from them
from me
and I take the blame
for not sticking around
for those who gave up
on me
accusing me of
leaving them
hypocrisy
I know
I'm paying for their pain
for their broken hearts
for their regrets
but who's paying for mines?
who stands still on my side
even just for a change
why am I always the one
to blame
I try to conquer
these ghosts of my past
but god
they keep coming back
ripping my soul apart
kicking and screaming
forcing me to take
one more look
at those arteries and veins
imagining their red fluid
running on my palm
drawing masterpieces
for the world to see
letting it out
setting me free
but the blame..
still there
controlling me
paralyzing my every move
the blame of leaving you
  even though it was you
you who decided to walk away
but I still didn't
you gave up
and I gave in
not that different after all
I'm taking the blame for your
mistakes
taking it for my own heart
that you broke
carelessly
blaming me for loving you
stupid heart
such naivety
blaming me
blaming you
for a thing that don't
exist anymore
we're just not there anymore
nothing left to give
nothing left to take
but the blame
and honey
we both already know
who's misfortune
that will be
I want you
not in a abstract sorta way
but in every way there is
this on going thing we have
undefined
unknown
far from being untrue
and it hurts
it does hurt
to feel you emotionless
distant
my pride wont let me
touch your gentle skin
that very same skin that I
crave
desire
and dream of
but no
not again
I will not just give in
your words linger
on my hands
in my heart
on my lips
even though we've never
ever
kissed
maybe in a dream once
or in a thought twice
that everlasting kiss
leaving you breathless
leaving me drained
but aching for more
gasping
as if air exists
only when our tongues collide
but no
you're there
I'm here
far apart
but my knuckles
are shacking just
at the thought of holding your hand
and my eyes
are crying just
at the thought of a glimpse of your face
and my lips
are trembling just
at the thought of that imaginary kiss
I want that feeling to go away
leave my haunted mind
my haunted body
my haunted soul
but your ghost is floating around me
and it hurts..
it does
truly
sincerely
literally
utterly  
hurt.

— The End —