You said my tears didn't taste salty
and I wanted to say
that was because I was drowning
all of our memories down my face.

But you know, that's not something
that can fit in a mouth,
I couldn't imagine my tongue
pronouncing those words,
there is no sound for those thoughts.

That's something you can read in a
note on a table, in a public toilet wall,
and it sound tragically beautiful
and maybe you'd take a picture
and post it in your social media
sharing the story of some strangers.

Althought it's totally different
when you feel those tears
falling down in rivers, in columns
of sweets memories and happy days,
but I couldn't say that
it would make everyting harder.

And now we're looking at each other
and inside of me there's a lagoon
of the things that couldn't be said
and the memories that couldn't be sweet,
I realize I'm really sunken in my own narrative.

There were the bubbles
that are born when someone
open up a can of coke
but then
I looked at you
and you were crying,
mumbling an excuse,
a "sorry I was really sad too"
a "I don't know why I did that".
But it's always too late,
there is no bubbles now
just the liquid coke, without gas
you know that noboby likes it like that,
and I'm also deaf,
for all your words and sounds
I just watch you, like far far away,
like if I were the bubble
that have not born yet,
and I pray for the can, I want it
to be impossible to open,
because I like the efervescence of the begining
but I'm terrified of the final taste.

She's made of sunshine
and I'd never forget the first time
I saw her shine, she illuminates
everything, even me.

I feel warm around her
and when she hold me
I'm a kaleidoscope of sunshine,
I hope I never forget.

The most beautiful part:
I know I can live without her
I'll be good, but I prefer my sun close
now that I have a photosynthetic heart.

I wish I know you
the way I know every freckle of my sweater,
I whish you want to know me too
because it's cold and the sweater have holes
and I'm starting to question my own knowledge,
I didn't remeber the sleeves where that short.

My childhood was a sunflower
it has moved following the sun,
the light, the brightness, it has moved.
Then it came the night, I died
everytime the moon owns the sky.
Then again I was reborn, alive,
with seeds, with petals, with leaves
with sedds, with hope, with hapiness.
Wish I had grab my roots better at the ferm ground
now that my last sight it's only dust.

I wish we share the room someday,
we'll share our breathe, our blink,
I hope someday you impregante me
of the art you are wrapped into
because now I'm just a black hole
of nothing because I'm surrounded
by the meaning of the words I've never said
and I really wanted to.
I hope someday you look at me like
I think I'd look at you if you were here now,
I'm not like in love with you, maybe I am,
I really don't know how to feel
or even what I'm feeling
because the universe have eaten me alive
I couldn't remember if it was yerterday
o two thousand years ago.
I'm sorry for this mess
I hope we can live with it in that room.