A donde sea que voltee, veo amor
En cada rincón de la ciudad,
lo escucho en las canciones,
lo leo en la poesía,
lo veo en los ojos de las personas

Por mucho tiempo busqué el amor,
sin dirección,
sin un propósito,
sin saber siquiera qué era lo que esperaba encontrar,
lo que era el amor
No puedo negar que lo he encontrado, en varias formas,
de distintas personas,
en cantidades diferentes e intensidades variantes

Pero el amor no es algo que se encuentra
El amor se construye,
se cultiva con cuidado y cariño,
para, cuando este haya madurado,
cosechar el fruto obtenido
y poderlo compartir con otros

A donde sea que voltee, veo amor
y es que he comprendido que el amor vive en mi
Yo soy amor!
y no hago más que ver el reflejo de mi en otros,
el reflejo de la esencia que me llena y me da vida
Un corazón latiente, bombeando felicidad a través de mis venas
Con cada nueva herida, sangro nuevo amor
comprensión de mis semejantes,
de mis circunstancias,
de mi mismo

Por mucho tiempo busqué el amor,
y hoy, por fin me encontré

As I've grown up I've been turning bitter.
Life isn't as easy as it once seemed.
You gotta go to school to get a job.
You gotta get a job to earn basic needs.
You gotta pay taxes to keep those needs.
Kids just have it so much better.

I remember being a kid, and not having a single worry on my mind.
I would just go outside and play, or grab the first thing I saw, and pretend it was something else.
A couch could become a fortress.
A blanket over your head was a secret hideout.
A twig could be the strongest of swords.
Every day was really an adventure.

Now that I'm 21 a couch is for resting after a hard day at work.
A blanket's only purpose is to keep you from the cold.
Twigs are something you step on without even noticing.
Every day is just another burden on our backs.

Can someone please tell me why is everything so dull now?
Why do we lose our sense of wonder?
Why can't I dance in the rain without worrying about catching a cold?
Why can't I get inside a cardborad box, and pretend it's a castle?

I'm sick of being a "grown up".
I wanna be a kid!
I want to be amazed by the colour of the flowers.
I want to feel afraid when it's stormy outside.
I want to play with a puppy because it's fluffy and playful.
I want to throw a tantrum when I don't get my way.

I shan't be the only one. Lets all be kids again!
Lets hide under the table.
Get scared of the monster who lurks in your closet.
Cry from time to time for no reason.
Use a night light when you go to bed.
Buy some toys, and play with them.
Eat cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Feel like a total rebel for doing so on the couch.
Watch cartoons early in the morning with your pijamas on.
Try to stay awake all night, and fall asleep before 11.

Every time I see a kid, I just can't help to smile.
It's not because they're cute, but because I'm jealous of them.
They live without worries, without thinking of what will happen tomorrow.
I wish I could be like them.
I want to be a kid again.

As I walk back home from a stressful day at school, I can't help but recognize the heavy steps I've taken through the same old, claustrophobia inducing,
routine making street for the past three years.

It's so peaceful and quiet,
unlike my mind,
which erupts in strenduous racket at the sight of sanity,
even if it's a mere glimpse at it.

I want to break the silence and scream,
but as soon as I do, this dead street will come back to life;
cars won't stop passing by,
old ladies will rush to the front door, and try to take a look at what's going on,
dogs will start to bark,
which will scare the cats,
who will make the neighbours yell at them to leave their houses...

I wish to feel this alive.

I want my heart to beat like a drumkit being smashed on by John Bonham
I want my lungs to fill with air, and float away into the cloudy night sky
I want my voice to sing like Freddie Mercury in the morning,
like Whitney Houston at noon,
and like James Hetfiled at night,
all on my own.

I want my hands to hold on to my mother and father in the wake of my departure.
I'm not ready to leave them yet.

I want my head to stay quiet,
my mind to stop working,
my memories to fade out,
and my anxiety to consume all.

People think psychologists know all the answers,
that we can't
or won't
or shouldn't get angry,
sad,
anxious,
joyous,
euphoric,
suicidal,
depressed,
lonely...

We are still humans,
and we have it worse than anyone else.

Every single person has their own demons,
but we can call them by name.

I can't find my motivation again...

I feel the pull of my bed drag me towards it like I'm a discarded piece of metal subjected to the power of an industrial magnet, waiting to be put on the compactor and meet my clautrophobic end

I can't remember where I left my smile last night
I put it on my night stand, I'm sure... or did I?
Drunkeness forbids me from forming a coherent thought about the laughter I vaguely remember, or if it ever existed

I spit out the blood in my mouth from the grinding of my teeth like a rusty, old hinge that can hardly move to open the cage in which I imprisoned my own happiness

My arms can't seem to hold on tight enough to life, at least not today
I can feel the dread in my thoughts constantly taunt me, poking at every one of my imperfections, shouting at my low self esteem, and my guilt choking me to the point of unconsciousness, because I oppose not

The words I vomited along with all the beer, still stain my clothes and my skin, reminding me of the hangover to come
I will hate myself for having done so, and I will promise myself to never drink or love again

But that's a promise I never keep

I'm sitting next to her,
but I don't dare say a word.
She's busy doing homework,
scribbling many notes.

My eyes are fixed on her.
My thoughts are running wild.
I wish that she would notice me,
or talk to me, or just smile.

I'm sitting right next to her,
and I'm just way too shy.
If I could get over my awkwardness,
that girl would surely be mine.

At times I don't know who I am
What do I want?
What do I say?
What do I think? What do I do?
I'm a cluster of bad decissions,
of impuslivity and overthinking
at the wrong times
I pawn my heart to whom I mustn't, and take it away from whomever dares buy it
I'm the selfishness of early childhood,
the stubburness of adolescence.
I'm the laughter of the insane,
the silence of noise,
the personification of incoherence, and I've come to substract sense from this world obsessed with false truth
I'm the definition of what can't be defined
I'm the abstraction of the concrete
I am all, absolutely all,
but one thing
I am not me

Why can't I write you something to make you fall in love?
You're so complicated to me, but also quite simple
You stay at a safe distance from me, but you're still the one I feel the closest to
It's no secret you are the one with whom I get along the best
You get me, and I get you
But there's still one thing you don't get,
and it is that I'm enamored of the way you are
Maybe you don't like it, but there is one person who'd never change a thing about you:
Your slim figure
Your contagious smile
The cigarette in your hand perfuming your clothes
The music that you listen to, which doesn't bother me anymore when I listen to it with you
The grimaces you make
The way you talk
The way you feel and the way you think
Your cinnamon coloured skin
The different colours of your hair
The way you dress and the way you undress
The way you told me you loved me a year back
The way you are so feminine
The way you are a friend
The times we spend talking about nonsense
The times we spend talking about everything
Is there anything else I can say?
I adore you
You fascinate me
You caught me without knowing or wanting to
Now I wonder what you might feel.

S*aturday night I was still unsure if I wanted to go to that club with you. I didn't want to be witness of my defeat a couple months back. I was afraid to see you with someone else. Afraid I'd be drunk enough to fall apart right there. But, in the end, I decided to go.

You picked me up, and we went to your friend's house. On the way there, I kept wondering if you thought I looked handsome. We got there, and talked for a while with your friend (really nice guy, by the way). Then, we went for beer and hamburgers, and got back so you could get dressed.

Once you were all dressed up, and ready to go, I could hardly believe my eyes. I didn't say anything, but *GOD!,  did you look gorgeous. I was honestly marveled at how stunning you looked.

The rest of the night went better than I had expected. You went your way, and I went mine, trying not to run into you as much. When the night was over, you dropped me off at my place, I got into bed, and blacked out, but that image of you in that dress, the deep, blue blazer, and high heels is forever imprinted in my brain.

Slim
            I wrap my arms around you

Sweet
            I can't taste this without you

Smile
            The brightness of your spirit

Sleep
            The tiredness that comes with it

Sin
            An aura that provokes me

Stop
            Before I am without me

Sing
            The songs that I am writing

Speak
            The thoughts you are igniting

Strong
            My heartbeat when I see you

Slow**
            *My heartbeat when I miss you

I need your arms tonight
The tears roll down my face, and I don't have the courage to dry them off
They stain my cheeks, drawing distinct patterns in my sorrow
Can't type a cowardly hidden word because I can't seem to find the will to go look for it, even though I can see its feet sticking out under the curtain
I, alienation, need your company
I need your arms tonight

Waking up
Sun is up
9 a.m.
Out of bed
Fill up the mug

                                                 Coffee dark
                                                 Jazz and Soul
                                                Crack two eggs
                                                Season well
                                                Breakfast is done

                                                           ­                                 Messy sheets
                                                          ­                                  Clothes on floor
                                                           ­                                 Sit and type
                                                            ­                                Drunk on jazz
                                                            ­                                Daydreaming score

                                                  Shower runs
                                                  Cold wind blows
                                                  Let it fly
                                                  You and I
                                                  Nobody knows

In my mind
All alone
Empty space
Ceiling gaze
Music still on

                                                    Without me
                                                    Day is gone
                                                    Music fade
                                                    Dream away
                                                    Lights turn off

There's only so many ways to describe the way you love that special someone, and, baby, I've used them all.
I've talked about the butterflies in the stomach.
I've talked about time standing still.
I've used all the analogies in the book to describe your beauty.
Your hipnotizing eyes.
Your bright smile.
Your delicate skin.
It's all been done.
All the clichés have been applied to you, time and time again.
I can't write you a poem because it ends up being the same exact words arranged differently.
And I'm desperate.
I'm desperate to reinvent myself, and come up with something fresh and new.
Something romantic that hasn't been done before.
Not the roses.
Not the poems and songs.
Not the stroll through the park.
Something to finally express all these I'm feeling in me I can't seem to let out.
I want you to realize how you affect every single aspect of my life.
I want you to feel about me how I feel about you.
But again I expect too much out of this.
Out of something so uncertain.
Maybe I should stop.
Or should I?
I don't know, and I'm not sure if I ever will.
You seemed to like me once.
Could it happen again?
Or did you realize that I'm not good enough for you?
You wouldn't be the first.
See now how this started with one thing, and mutated into another?
But it's still all about you.
It's always about you.

Another day. One more class next to you. It somehow hurts to sit and listen to what you did last weekend, and what you'll do on this one, while I've been sitting home alone the whole weekend for the last two months. I lost myself when I lost you. I've been building myself up since then, but there's still a along way to go.

Now I'm even asking myself why I'm even writing this to you. I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me... am I? And even while you read this, would you care about how I feel?

There's times when I want to be with you, and times when I want to be as far away from you as possible. I'm so bitter-sweet about you. *You're tearing me apart! Hope you get that reference. That'd mean you have a good cinematographical taste, which I know you have, but I still wonder if you've watched that movie. Maybe we should watch it together... *maybe.

She the reason
He the emotion
Careless season
Without notion

One collected
Two a mess
Three neglected
Four to bless

Rhyme and metaphor
Bars and clicks
It's been said before
Not quite like this

Careful thinking
Thoughts of mayhem
Peaceful inking
Notes obey them

Song and lyric
Together are strong
Speechless critic
Lyric and song

We're both standing on the edge.
You. Me. The void beneath our feet.
People walk frantically down below, rushing to get somewhere they don't want to go, to do things they don't want to do.
The wind blows harder on the rooftops, getting lost in your long, wavy hair like a newborn deer would alone in the forest.
Your eyes take a lingering look at the busy scene the streets are acting for us. Then you gaze at the clear, blue sky as you sigh and ask for forgiveness, but there is nothing to forgive.
I hold your hand in mine, and look into your eyes. They are scared, troubled. They shed a tear for who you were. They are filled with hope for who you'll become.
You smile.
I smile.
We close our eyes, and fly with the wind under our skin.
We soar so high into the sky.
We soar, you and I.

N**ever would I have imagined you'd like me, even if it was only for a day.

You were so sweet to me. I loved the compliments you gave me, and I absolutely adored the way I made you blush and smile shyly and awkwardly. It somehow made you look even better than you already do.

Everytime we hugged I could feel how you would fit perfectly in my arms. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle was finally in place. The warmth you made me feel was unlike anything I had felt before, and when we kissed... well, I can't even begin to describe how your kisses made me feel. They took me out of this world, even out of my own body. They made me fly to a place where nothing could go wrong... but it eventually did.

It all went away as soon as it had come, but, even if it was short lived, I really developed feelings for you. My friends told me I was crazy, confused, even desperate.

You really just were too good... too good to be true.

*******!
You know why.
You played me like an old toy.
Just picked me up, removed the dust, and put me away again.
You exploited my many vulnerabilities, and used them to your advantage.
What did you even get from it?
A couple hugs and kisses?
A meaningless ****?
Did it even mean anything to you?
Because it sure did to me, and now that meaning turns into pain.
You hurt me.
You ******* hurt me, and I hate you for that.
I hate how much you made me fall for you.
I hate the fact you won't leave my thoughts and dreams.
I hate the fact that I love you.

*******!

*******!

S**omething inside of me can't let you go, even though I really want to, and I don't really know why. It maybe because I really love talking to you, and spending time with you. It may also be how I love the way you smile, the goofy gestures you sometimes make, and even the way you move.

You make me feel like I hadn't in a really long time, and I know I've said it many times before, but I just can't forget how the world just seemed right for a moment.

Maybe it's not even you. Maybe it's the baggage I've been carying, and you were just the one that crushed me under the weight of it.

Whatever the reason may be, and even though I want to forget you, I do not want to lose you. I'd love to be comfortable with just being your friend.