the night darker than before,
stumbled and fell,
leaving stars laying around,
waiting to be picked up,

no matter how many hardships,
how sad,

All these things,
the night stumbled on,
Doesn't matter,
because morning is around the corner,
I wish the stars were in the sky already,
i wish they weren't laying around

I wish the sky would have
noticed his pockets,
have holes in them,
he left a trail of stars,
not as brightly as they were,
but still holding on,
unto the only thing they know how to do,
Holding on unto a last string of hope.

I want the stars to shine for me,
I need them,

But the most important thing of all,
they should shine for themselves,
keep holding on,
until they get picked up,

by the not so dark,
night sky.
jaja, i don't even know
Pages from a calendar
fall onto the ground slowly
like autumn leafs,

Everyday marked,
marked with significant
and insignificant stuff,

Days without school,
Just a whole bunch of time wasted,

But pages will keep falling,
days will keep getting marked,

And i know,
i know i don't want to die today
Because There's more pages to rip,
and more birthdays to remember,
and more just more.

And i love that the day's in my calendar
are flying by,

Because it means,
I was stronger,
and decided
not to die.
On some days i miss your trauma

But never you.

I never miss the good days
Or the details
Or the mornings in bed sheets.

Perhaps because i never understood,
What i was or you were or we were,
so the trauma

Never washed away.
Sky scrapers made of Lego,
giants controlling everything
super heroes without capes,
Civilians made of paper,
Those are the settings,
of a kids play set,

so nostalgic and overwhelming,
So thought out,
but not as well built,

Imagination running wild,
as little plastic men,
Ruin the town,

Buildings Collapsing,
waiting to be stepped on,

As future architects,
and astronauts,
play around,
as *** intended,
them to,

Playing Until  
The Stars Comes out,

And their curfew is upon them,
creeping unto their fun,

Just so they can rest for another day,
Of Lego blocks and broken cities.
***** Dishes were left
for every one to see,

Being spectated by the
Different type of people,
and being pitied,
by those who don't bother to do theirs anymore.

i miss before,
the before where i didn't
wake up to the smell
of old food moisturizing,

The before Where,
Time flew through our Open window,
the before where people didn't have to try,
And ignore our ***** dishes.

But now,
there's just ***** dishes
in the kitchen,

A broken ***** man,
on the living room floor,

A mother,
that's tired of being someone,

And me,
Walking over the ***** man,
ignoring ***** dishes,
and getting myself
to school.

Miradas encadenas,

cadenas que no pesan nada,

pues se han atado, a la persona amada.

Ojos que miran con justicia,

justicia en justa medida.  

Miradas que se miran con igualdad divina,

con desquicia, pero sin avaricia

de poseer el otro, solo, amarse

hasta que el pozo del tiempo

se seque por dentro,

consecuentemente poniendo

distancia de por medio.

Cadenas con fibras de libertad

- pues sus ojos en otros se pudieron fijar,

mas el convenio de por siempre amarse,

de encontrarse reflejado en el otro;

sin atropellos, sin descuido,

sin desacierto, sin desvarió

convierte esas ataduras

en liviana expresión

que les llena de emoción

su cotidiana convivencia,

al encontrarse en cada mañana

todavía atados a ese voto de amor

que hace tiempo se prometieron.

Miradas encadenadas,

cautivos de la esperanza,

de esa esperanza de siempre

atravesar el mundo juntos

sin inconveniencia, sin apuros,

sin  apatía a la noche fría,

sin oposición a los cambiantes rayos del sol,

sin disconformidad..,

cada uno amando a raudales

perdiéndose en esos espacios

donde sus miradas reafirman su acuerdo.

Se miran todos los días por primera vez,

Se miran como si fuesen su mejor horizonte,

Se miran y sus cadenas parecen invisibles,

esas cadenas de amor que entre ellos existe.

Encadenados por convicción

cada eslabón fortaleciendo su conexión.

Y sus ojos reafirman que son su mejor

compromiso de lealtad y amor.


she's young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pretty
o my ***,
I thought it was all working,
and now it's her again,
every time she phones you go crazy,
you told me it was over
you told me it was finished,
listen, I've lived long enough to become a
good woman,
why do you need a bad woman?
you need to be tortured, don't you?
you think life is rotten if somebody treats you
rotten it all fits,
doesn't it?
tell me, is that it? do you want to be treated like a
and my son, my son was going to meet you.
I told my son
and I dropped all my lovers.
I stood up in a cafe and screamed
and now you've made a fool of me. . .
I'm sorry, I said, I'm really sorry.
hold me, she said, will you please hold me?
I've never been in one of these things before, I said,
these triangles. . .
she got up and lit a cigarette, she was trembling all
over.she paced up and down,wild and crazy.she had
a small body.her arms were thin,very thin and when
she screamed and started beating me I held her
wrists and then I got it through the eyes:hatred,
centuries deep and true.I was wrong and graceless and
sick.all the things I had learned had been wasted.
there was no creature living as foul as I
and all my poems were
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