daddy, please hurry we´re missing the sunset

windows shut and that old strong musk

that my grandad passed on and on

white mustaches and deep voices

slight pinches of arrogance

total brutality

violence

utter cruelty

I was just a child

how could I bear to see

those things that scare and haunt me still

my little body across the floor

tiny legs curling up

fingers in my mouth

such youth, such people

Daddy where do you go at night?

when you look at me, what do you see?

just a reflection of yourself?

is that why you circle me?

windows open,

that sweet perfume,

daddy we missed it,

the sunset.

He was alone in a deep puddle of his own tears, saltwater burning his cheek and pelicans circling. He is aware of his state, feverish agony, but something prevents him from standing and walking away. "if I remain here, my tears will swallow me whole. My skin will shrivel and rot. But no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot leave this place, or this very own static position"

He's waiting for a hand to pull him out of his misery, for that one well-known hand left him long ago. He's waiting for someone to sympathize with his pain once again, but time goes by, and the pelicans are soon to become vultures. Instead of circling, they will eat them up raw.

“I like how the sun looks so different here”

The slight pinch caused by freshly cut grass made her constantly get up in a lazy motion, as she ran her hands through the back of her dress and gently itched her jovial face, only to lay once again under the cool shadow of the apple tree, and sigh slowly as if her chest was disposing of some long-locked secret.

That morning was utterly perfect, not a single cloud in sight, leaves drifting apart as the summer wind sung quietly amongst the field, and stroked her hair in a gentle affection. Those were the days in which I loved her the most. Martina. I did love her once, and I have no shame in saying so.

“you look just like your father”
Such revolting words to hear at a young age.
“my father is old”, I´d say, and I don´t want to look like him.

Something about the eyes I suppose. Small teary eyes, reminiscent of youth, that disappear when he smiles truthfully.
I didn't like looking like my father
My mother is much prettier, her glamorous touch and understanding voice, a radiance that lives on with her presence.
Dad is not delicate.
Strong rough hands,
Knows nothing of true beauty
Dominant tones in his speech.
It's a bittersweet feeling
Looking like someone you don't fully recognize;
We look precisely alike
Yet I do not wish to be him, in a way.

I don't think I've ever seen him cry.
His emotions are concealed deep within
For vulnerability is his weakness
Because his father taught him so.

But then again, I've seen him laugh,
And I believe that shows more range,
Like he is almost letting go
Are you letting go, dad?
I'd like it if you did.

For the moments you show me things are cherished like the most important treasure
When you say hopeful words about the weather, or kiss me on the cheek
Like you always used to do.
I feel small, dad
Smaller than I've ever felt
And to me, you are so grand
A giant even.
You know all the answers, no doubt about it,
I just need you to tell them softly. Softest.
You tend to speak so harshly
Are you still to comprehend
That we are not the same?

I need your beauty, dad.
I need you when you laugh,
When you sing,
When you hold me close to your chest like a child and run your fingers through my hair,
Saying whatever you need to say,
Adam's apple vibrating,
and hesitate to let go.

I look just like you, indeed
Therefore I'm afraid
you don't see me.

I have a home to which everyday i tiredly return.
I have my dad for guidence and advice, and my glamurous mom for love and companion.
I have my lovely little sister, to whom i share thoughts and secrets.
I have food in my belly,
and clothes to keep me warm.

I have everything, don´t i?
I have everything.
I have everything?


Then why does it feel like i have nothing?


I am carefull as to not to speak this outloud,
for i wish to sound ungreatful no more,
but shouldn´t i feel happier
if i have indeed everything?

i think i have nothing then.

I miss the days in which i was a jolly little kid, and the tallest tree was nothing but a toy. I miss having rosy-like cheeks, and not being terribly scared of the night.
           What a time it was! to dance around over tables! to eat sweets and tell stories until my voice was pitched and sore. When in order to escape all i had to do was look up to the skies, and imagine myself flying amongst all sorts of beautiful birds.

            As a young adult, i wish to be a child once again.
            To see the world with innocent eyes,
            and laugh delightfully even when im not supposed to.

After all the tears that streamed heavily down your jovial face, I knew it was time to walk towards time.
The pulsing blood rushed in a cold path and made all of my limbs become completely petrified, and i wish things never changed. But I understand it is a sin to ask for fake desires and situations.
As my body walked pass the silver door, a glance of regret flew like a bullet through my skull. I realized that once out of that door, I would never have you back.
Somethings can't simply be fixed, I presume. But somethings can't be forgotten, also.
By the deepest corner of my heart, breathing  very hardly, there is hope.
There resides your moon and my sun, frozen in time in our eternal kiss.
Somethings can't be changed, and will never be.
I forgive you.