Is that when it ends
It’s hard, you know?
Losing a friend that I thought I would ask for help
for paining the walls of my new house and move the furniture in.

How am I supposed
to grieve that space you left in my life?

I still see you every day
Not just you,
the things I want to show you.
the things I think would interest you.
the things I think would make you laugh.

But I don’t know you anymore,
so maybe those things would be boring to you.

Maybe I’m overthinking this.
Maybe I’m being over dramatic about this.

But friendship
it’s one of the most precious things for me.
And I just keep losing it.

Maybe I’m
just not a good friend.

I’m trying.
Every day I try.
But its hard for me
                 to keep a façade,
                 to keep a conversation.

I’m hard to love
because I’m not always there.
But I thought that our friendship was strong enough
to stand my silence.

Its hard and
it hurts me.

But it's time
to let go that pain.

I’m letting you go.
I’m grieving and I’m moving on.

You were my friend
and now you’re not.

I’ll have to live with it.
I’ll smile when we lock eyes
and be grateful
I got to know you.

Let me hide
in the caverns
of your heart

Those carved out
from
               the pain
               the grief  
the cruelties of
this world
have left you

with a space in
the middle of
your soul
without pieces of
yourself

Let me hide
in those shallowness
Can you hear
the wind is playing
                                I promise to
                                be careful
with the sharp edges

Let me hide
in the cliffs
of your sadness
just above the sea
of your tears  

Where the
                   flowers
                   smiles  
don’t grow
maybe I
can plant them
there

They made you
bite and spite blood to distract the sharks around

To survive

But then

You met someone who is just
                too soft
                too good
That can look at the world
                 in all its ugliness
                 in all its cruelty
An even then
                 can smile and light the room
                 can just share the silence and bring peace
Someone you treasure so much

                that you end letting go
Because
                 that is  the only thing you know how to do
Because
                  that is the closest thing to love you know
Because
                  you only know how not to hurt

So you stood there watching their back
With the words cutting your throat
But you just can’t say them
Because
                 you don’t know how
Because
                 you don’t know how to say it
Because
                 when you try to say - ---- ---
It sounds like
                 I’m sorry
                 I’m happy for you
                 You can go
                 I can stay
                 I will wait
Maybe it doesn't have a sound at all

It was in my friend teaching me to play the piano
It was on my friend asking me if I had eaten anything
It was in my brother calling me names while rushing my hair
It was in my mother saying She just wants me to be happy
It was in my father saying he just wants the best for me

Because
                  everybody speaks it different
Because
                  sometimes it isn’t said
But if I learnt anything at all
Is that even if we don’t understand each other
we have to make an effort
So, I played the piano the best I could
I kissed goodbye my mother
I held eye contact with my father
I ran here just to say my first words
To them
To you
                I’m happy you are alive
                And I’m happy that I’m alive too
                Here
with you tonight

The last time I said goodbye

                              Farewell

                              Safe roads

                              Good winds

to my father
who gave me life

I cried myself to sleep
for three days I would
lie there
In the camping tent

Clenching my hands
Around his shirt
still with his aftershave lotion

Maybe I knew it then

It would be the last time
I would see my father

The next time
I said

                              Farewell

                              Safe roads

                              Good winds

To that stranger
Who shares my nose

I thought that maybe
I could learn from him
how not to love

Her sadness was loud
she would cry herself out
bang her hands against the walls

she would scream asking why
to the heavens
asking why
to the glass of water still full

Her grief was like a storm
encompassing everything else
it was wet
there was no escape from it

I could just
stare
at her
at the photo
at the candles

my sadness was quiet
I couldn't cry
the tears would dry in my eyelashes
I would just lay there

asking why
to the shadows in the altar
asking why
to my memory
asking why
I couldn't remember

                 his voice
                 his hands
the last time I saw him
the last time I heard
                 his voice

The lights are the only thing I can offer
to help him
to help her
                  to

                  remember
even if it's just now
I only have the guilt
because death did us part
and all the love I didn't know I had
doesn't have anywhere to go

It hides behind the knives
every time I start cooking

was it   a month?
              a year?

it cannot be the same spider
but
it is still there

I look at it
Climbing
Is it sacred?

Of me ?
Like I’m of it?

It’s a tiny piece of
Life
that I could
crush
with

Only a hand
I gather the knife

And keep cooking

Lovers embrace each other like there is no tomorrow.
Mothers cry for the future of their parting kids.
Fathers ponder about the wrongdoings

and I will be there,
with a cup of coffee steaming hot

and you will be there, too
at the other side
                              of the table
                              of the sea
We’d look at each other
Or maybe not
Maybe wet just breath the same air
for one last time

In the night before the end of the world
We’ll give our farewells
to an unknown future
We’ll ask empty apologies to unborn children

In the middle of the table
Between the cookies and words not said
Will lay bare our regrets of a
                              Unloved
                              Unlived
life

How often do you think about death
About dying
About everyone else dying

While I sit with mom
Watching a movie about euthanasia
She asks me
                       What are you going to do with me?

I thought about dying when the world seemed too dark
And life felt too heavy

She though about dying when her body hut too much
And her heart was broken

But that night
Watching an old man loving too much
We both felt like we didn’t think about dying
By aging
By living too much

In the morning
With warm coffee in our hands
I said to her
                         What you ask me to

because while i scrub the tiles
I can't hear you in the kitchen
I can't hear the words you say under your breath

While trying to get rid of the ugliness between the tiles
I try to get rid of the ugliness inside me
My head can only recite you words
even if I try to imagine histories of other words
even if I repeat my mantra
                                               aléjate de mi aléjate de mi aléjate de mi
I can only hear those voices

Am I too much?

why is that the me that i thought was the best of me
is the one hurting you?
why is that i thought that everything was fine
but every word
every look
every action
was hurting you?
why is that i was convinced that the worst was behind us?

is bad that even if you are telling me that I'm hurting you
every day
every second
I can only cry?

am I bad for thinking in the way your words hurt me
when you are the one hurting?

is this the best that I can get?

I just keep running in circles
thinking that I'm close to the end

I thought that -
does it matter what i thought?

the bathroom is clean now
I didn't want you to enter
I wasn't finished yet
is everything I say that hurtful?

I ask you
If you love me,
All the time:
While eating
Watching television
Working
Cooking

I need to get it

I’m not afraid that one day
You’ll realize that you don’t love me anymore
What really scares me is that
one day
That love won’t be enough
For you to forgive everything I’ve done
Everything that I haven’t done
Everything I won’t do

Her sadness was loud
she would cry herself out
bang her hands against the walls

she would scream asking why
to the heavens
asking why
to the glass of water still full

Her grief was like a storm
encompassing everything else
it was wet
there was no escape from it

I could just
stare
at her
at the photo
at the candles

my sadness was quiet
I couldn't cry
the tears would dry in my eyelashes
I would just lay there

asking why
to the shadows in the altar
asking why
to my memory
asking why
I couldn't remember

his voice
his hands
the last time I saw him
the last time I heard his voice

The lights are the only thing I can offer
to help him
to help her
to

remember
even if it's just now
I only have the guilt
because death did us part
and all the love I didn't knew
it doesn't have anywhere to go

To that baby
That kid
That teenager
That adult

Growing inside me
I’m afraid
                 Of the pain
                                    I may feel

                                    It may cause
  I’m afraid
                 Of growing

                                    Up

                                    Old

paceful
in going to sleep with the certainity of not waking up
in the morning
when the conciuos slowlly makes its apperance
there is a crashing pain in the soul
in the knowlede of being alive.

What can one do
when the bones can´t stand the weight
of the body
of the mind
of the heart
and they hurt
like when you where a child
growing.

But we are growing, aren´t we?

You open your eyes
or maybe not
And you can only ask
Why?
Wasn’t it enough?

in the days where I can’t get out of bed
and my lips are chapped.
How will you hear me
in the day where I don’t want to talk
and my voice is strangled.
How will you touch me
in the days where I’m not here
and my nails are claws.
Will you love me when I don’t?
Will you be there when I’m not?
Will I do it?

We talked when the other wasn’t listening
We listened when the other just wanted silence
We painted murals when the other was blinded
We played soft tunes when the other was deft

But,
What else we could have done?
What could you have done if you knew me?
What could I have done if I knew you?

It’s a funny thing
To try to forgive
when we are still bathing in ager
when we are still having regret for breakfast
guilt for lunch
and mourning for what could have been for dinner

You are you
I am me
We are so different
We speak different languages
I nod and you shake
A close my eyes and you keep yours wide open
You call me
And I just need a hug
You came here
And I just want to go

I place my hand over the phone
The call goes unanswered
And within time
It will stop rigging at all

What else could have we done?
What else we can we do?
Because you are still you
And I am still me

I take care of It every day
moving  It around the house
and making It sit still in silly poses.
In the morning I clean the skull
with a mop
shining and shining.
I carry It from the bedroom
to the library
to the kitchen
and then I let It in the living room with all the other guests:
A lazy cat bathing in the sunbeams.
The ghost of a dog who barks at the passing times.
A renegade bird who just chirps to let know the world that there is injustices.
I think that they have long chats when I’m not there
working trying to fit.
I couldn’t say,
after all I can’t speak the language of the gone.
If I remember
remember to have lunch,
I would like to invite It to site across the table
I don’t like to eat alone
the silence tends to ferment the thoughts
and I prefer to accompany my meals with water
It’s better for the body.
In the afternoons I would sit with them in the living room
to share the coffee and some of my worries.
They listen
and that’s the only thing I would ever ask from them.
In the night when I remember
remember to sleep
I took It to the bedroom
and carefully laid down the fragile bones.
I use cotton sheets to cover It.
I also laid there,
cautious to not disturb It,
I make myself small to fit between the ribs,
and there I would wonder
how the next day it’s going to be
and when was the last time that I lived
with someone who doesn’t make me carry them around.

Mother said
that man is a creature of habit
we were in the kitchen

I asked her
even in love?

Tell me mother,
how long did it take you to stop loving him
how long until you stop loving him

Yes, she answered

Tell me mother
if will you ever stop loving him
when will it spot hurting
you
me

Tell me mother
if  man is a creature of habit
is woman condemned
to remember
or to have the last word