I look at people
on the bus stop
in the market line
on the street

their empty eyes
unwavering
firm
meant to be

how, I think
can they persist
while the nostalgic abyss
managing to miss

me whereas I stand
eyes teared, reaching the end
barely escaping the wound
of our last joined moon

glimpses of him, with her, I catch
still I imitate a productive life
ignoring my heart’s scratch
I watch him pass, the knife

I catch a sound though
a sad silent whimpering
I reach, I see, I stand low
crystal glass eyes glimmering

face, unrecognizable
voice completely mute
yet I feel in my bones as if
we’re wearing the same suit

‘look around’ she says
I turn a surprised stare
‘your own eyes’ again says
‘are everything but rare’

I look at the eyes
on the bus stop,
the market line,
the street

Finally I feel relief
not for his eyes, but strangers’
that former memories
still seek.

what does it mean to breathe
what does it mean to feel
is there value to skin
or am i just a dream

i keep trying, crying
believing i’m planting a seed,
as if my hopes would manifest
and spread out like a w33d

the voices pressure me
i act as they command,
my own will corrupted
by those above the man.

lend my sight around
for any hope of help
but my peers seem, as me,
to be drowning in their well.

i ask Him for guidance
he turned on a blind eye,
later then i found out
he showed the answer, ‘I’.

i shall live with the despair
accepting the never fair,
for now I know the way to live
is to do so out of feel.

Mariposa gris de frenético aleteo
amores y anhelos llenan el aire mortal
acepta la vejez y ajeno goteo
indicador insensible del triste final

Conoce su destino, cesando su emoción
su acelerado ritmo sosiega en corrosión.
Cercana al horizonte, recuerda una canción
en boca de ese amor, soneto de pasión

Alas paralizaron, conscientes del final.
Como hoja en otoño, su templo cae sin mal.
Mariposa negra, aleteo sin igual
con amores y anhelos ve hacia tu viaje astral.

i’ve come to terms with the fact
that i’ll just never forget
i’ll just never move on
or erase my regrets.

i feel fine, i see you, i remember
and the time passed chooses to surrender
to you and your light all carelessly presumed
what flower would want to stay unbloomed?

i’m glad you found a new sprout
to plant new seeds to grow proud
and cherish the sun and bees and rain
no hummingbird to ruin as vain.

¿Por qué me miente mi alma,
corrompida por la avaricia,
al pedir a mi corazón tibio
recibir del fuego una caricia?

No hace más que ilusionar
y pedir sin pensar.
Alguien venga,
¡arránquenla de su esperar!

Ingenua es, sin duda,
aquella que desea mi amargura.
Pues no sabe nuestra bendición
al desconocer el amor.

¿Correspondencia deseas?
¿Un estímulo anhelas?
Tontas necesidades,
mayores en sus miserias.

¿Qué harás frente al pesar,
y al vacío abismal,
al desesperado hundimiento
en dolor físico y mental?

De gracias careces,
pues osas pedir más
que la pureza de la soledad
y la tranquila sobriedad.

¡Abúrrete, por favor!
tal vale más que una borrachera
decorada de placeres y diversión,
solo tapan la fatal desilusión.

why must i torture the poor
and stab myself with words
knowing that my own soul
slaughters deeper than swords.

who taught me how to hate
who tricked me on how to live
instead of showing me how to love
allowing me to be free

how do i break out i ask,
how can i restart,
is it selfish for me to deny
what has kept me through my time?

where do i begin to change
when the mind has already escaped
and the hope has all vanished
since the day they did not care.

Sunflowers, moonflowers
I smell when crying outside
though they cannot compare
to the smell of themselves dried

It is, however, quite nice
when sat out and drunk and fine
so to my lover’s sorrow ought to speak
facing their troubles will be my pick

Is it, though, mine or Heaven’s
to choose love over life
to cheer for someone’s thrive
instead of my own rise

It is, but, my Father’s wish
to give and not care to receive
for I’m created to create
and not to my heart please

What if, still, my heart aches for love?
and is not all love worthy of care?
How, Father, can I escape sin
when the love I seek is deemed rare?