It has been so long since the last time I've met a soul that is worth wasting hours of sleep upon.
How long has it been since I've seen innocence reflected on my pupils.
Where would the muses whom inspired masterpieces of poetry be?
Or at least someone who can alleviate the ache of writing without a reason.
Where's my Venus?
Where's my Beatrice?
Or can someone just send me a Valkyrie to take me away from this impulsive feeling of digging through languages looking for a pretty rhyme.
Infinite words drop from my heart at the beat I walk through this somber streets.
Blank verses that I let slip through my fingers that if carved in image of the right maiden they could achieve their potential and shine.
How long ago has it been since I haven't polish something worth to show the whole world.
And it is that maybe I'm looking for them in the wrong places.
Maybe she is hiding in a corner of a library dying her soul red with some baroque literature.
Maybe she is hanging dreams from the tips of her hair reading Calderon de la Barca.
Or she could be painting countless worlds on her eyelids with some Marquez...
Yes, that could be it.
Maybe she is hidden between heart and shadow.
And I am here wasting myself away, walking through these ****** streets with three black clouds hovering above me, and two ravens singing along about lack of love.

"I'll live in you if in the sea I die."
As I finished reading that verse, a pause was enough for our sight to tangle.
I moved closer to her, and there it was.
Our lips restarted the play they once had done.
Moving completely opposite but still perfectly synchronized, accompanied by a melody of aligned breathing.
I held her hand and it commenced.
The same way waves crash on rocks she came knocking down my doors and opened Pandoras box.
In the middle of sights that let scape crumbles of my soul I whispered words that I now remorse myself from saying.
"Did you miss me?"
"So much. Did you miss me?"
"More than anything in this world."
Two idiots matching heartbeats that come from hearts that belong to someone else.
But who can blame us when we once were an immense universe trapped in a tiny bedroom.
Together we discovered what it was like to be in love for the first time and how it felt to fall out of it.
This sempiternal feeling packed within seconds of that dance our lips performed.
And that last kiss was enough to break my whole world.
Yes, I know. It could be all an illusion from the alcohol, but I would drown in gin if that meant I could feel my heart beat that way once again.

And here I am, standing in the verge of limbo.
Who's calling me?
"There's two voices"
What are they saying?
"Come save me"
Whose voices' are they?
"The voice of your first love"
"No. Do not listen to it, it's from your last love"
And whose voice do I follow?
"The one your heart dictates to follow"
What if it's guided by memories?
"Follow your first love"
What if it's guided by the future?
"Follow your last love"
And what do I say?
"Forgive me"
To Whom?
"Both"
What for?
"You've betrayed them both"
Who says so?
"Me."
And what do you know about betray?
"More than you know"
If you know more than me, tell me which voice to follow.
"I can't"
Why?
"Because of the mind"
What is she saying?
"The opposite"
And what is that?
"Your problem"

What do you know about poetry if you've never been stranded in the desert of a woman's lips.
If you've never made her blood rush to her cheeks.
Or if you've never whispered a secret to her ear.

What do you know about poetry if you haven't gotten tangled in the tips of a woman's hair.
If you've never gotten lost in the infinity little universe of her eyes.
Or if you've never had her wandering around your mind for days.

What do you know about poetry if you've never written anything on a naked body with your tongue.
If you've never lead a performance with the orchestra of her breathing.
Or if you've never sealed a contract of two different world colliding by locking her hands with yours.

What do you know about poetry if you know nothing about lust.
What do you know about poetry if you know nothing about love.

When the day, you and the sun die I become someone different. I become whom I fear. The one with anxiety, the one who over thinks every little thing about his life. And my thoughts haunt me for seconds that last years, and I can't handle it. Not by myself, but what can I do if you're not there? What am I to do when I'm alone with the only person I'm afraid of... myself. And the voices come to my head telling me to talk to them, the ones who once held the heart your holding right now. To tell them that I haven't forgotten them just so they can give me a minute of comfort in this endless hours of darkness. The voices reach from my head to the tip of my fingers just to write these things that I don't even mean, because I only love you. But if there's anybody out there reading this...
If there's anybody out there hearing me screaming out loud in silence please help me carry this cross for the rest of the night...
Please do not help me, I will regret it in the morning. This is the real me speaking. Do not read these words, do not listen to these cries. Help me!
This battle is almost lost. Who are you to say who's the real one?
Help me get them out of my head.
Help me reach that one whose name starts with C.
No, please I am happy now, do not say anything.
Please, help me.
This is tearing me apart.
Help me.
Let us become one.
Help us!

They say that your pupils dilate 60% when you see something you truly love...
Well I saw her the other day,
She was holding hands with someone else.
What a surprise.
She saw me too,
I had a girl by my side,
Stepping on the same streets that once saw us together.
Through the same walls that were once against her back when we kissed.
Under the same sky that was our limit.
So many memories shared between two souls.
It seemed impossible to mute feelings like these,
But we did.
We stated at each other for one second,
No smiles,
No tears,
No sighs,
Nothing.
We saw each other like two strangers who know each other's stories would.
Two strangers that know each other's bodies better than their own.
Our eyes met for one second, can you imagine?
A sky,
An ocean,
A world captured in one insignificant second.
I thought the girl who hung from my arm was going to notice, but she didn't.
Did you know that your pupils dilate 60% when you see something you truly love?
That day my pupils grew to be the same size as the sun, and hers the size of the moon.
For one second they met and there was an eclipse, that's why the guy holding her hand and the girl hanging from mine found out about the world that unites us.
Our eyes betrayed us.
And is that even an idiot can tell that she has my mind twisted.

And it got to a certain point where I started liking pain. Because I came to think that I deserved it for doing all the crap I did. But that isn't true. The truth is that not even the devil deserves such kind of pain. And even less a simple demon like me.