I didn’t leave you

I didn’t run .

Even when every one told me to,

I stayed

to  patch your heart

the same way they used to repair broken pottery

with golden dust.



I didn’t leave you

I didn’t run .

But I gave you my love

and everything I had

even when i knew

that we were falling apart.



And now,

I can’t fix you anymore

with golden ink or deep kisses

And how am I supposed to draw you

when I don’t even remember

what I used to feel for you.



Is it my fault if you left me

Or your fault if I left you ?

But we will never found out my love

Because you left me too soon.

Or was it me who did ?

I went on a journey just by myself.

I wasn’t desperate for you anymore

and my heart was no longer craving for your kisses

My soul finally stopped missing yours

and this bound connecting us vanished.



I picked up those lovely debris you left behind

and put them in a jar

waiting for the right moment to come

the right moment to unite them for another time,

a last time.



I went on a journey just by myself.

leaving my memories of you where they belonged

in the dark, hidden so deep even I can’t reach them anymore.

I took my diary and started writing

about this peaceful  person I turned into

and this tenderness I found in people I met.



I didn’t know where I was going

I didn’t  know if I was ever coming  back

But i knew there was nothing left for me back there

Only  a burned land

with desperate souls

and collapsing stars.



I stood still in the rain

and let the sun kiss gently my skin

I closed my eyes and heard the wind whispering:

“No matter where you end up

even if it is in this exact same place where you started,

in this barren land

both moving through times

and  remaining unchanged  

Know you won’t be you anymore

Know you will become

Those billions laughs you heard

and those infinite hugs you gave

Know you will be

those shooting stars you contemplate

And those nostalgic paintings you wrote.”





yo , no soy yo;

por lo menos no soy el mismo yo interior

You don’t know people until you know them,
and you know them when you know who they once loved-
so intensely its’ stained their soul,
so fiercely it caused a hole
in the exact same spot that once,
was filled with love.

You will know when you’ll start,
listening to their whispers.
Understanding their silence.
Trying to fill that void,
left by another soul.

One thing leading to another,
you’ll eventually find yourself
right between Scylla and Charybdis.
Navigating between
your lust to jump into their hurricane,
and your desire to go back to that storm of yours.

Hoping,
their hurricane could cover the sound of your own storm.

Fearing,
it could cause heavy rains that would wreck your soul.

Thunderstorm!

Deluge.

Blizzard.

You’ll know.
when you’ll know.

You never realized how frustrating it was, to be left aside.  

All those times you deserted me

treading me for a fantasy of yours,

while you were sitting next to my window.



I begged you to take my love

but you didn’t want it,

you said you didn’t want to own something

you weren’t in need of,

like an old toy you keep in your closet but never use.



I begged you to take my body

but you didn’t want it

you said you didn’t want to settle for one body

when you already had many.



You looked up at the sky

As if you were searching

for something better than me.

But even the stars weren’t enough

to make this night a little bit less dark,

or your life, a lighter burden to bear.



You started searching for the moon, in vain.

I felt you slipping through my hands

so I offered you to take whatever you wanted.

whatever you needed.

Even my heart.



And when you were about to accept,

you saw the moonlight

entering through my window

as I saw my hopes

reduced to ashes.



And now, I sit next to my window every night,

mourning your absence

the same way the moon mourns the sun’s.

Isn’t it odd to miss something you never owned ?

It started raining,

as if God heard my prayers and sent some rain

to wash away yesterday’s sorrow.



But even God’s will and strength weren’t enough to erase

this image from my memory.



Every time I close my eyes, that’s all I can see.

Every time I turn the music off, that’s all I can hear.



It’s awaking my demons,

releasing them from the dungeon I spent so much time building,

fortifying.



But they do say you only attract what you are willing to accept,

and God knows how desperate for love she was.



She is my blood,

she is my flesh

but there are words that cannot remain unspoken

and no matter how much I would like her to know best,

she doesn’t.



She thinks she has nothing to loose,

no one to fear for,

but the only person I am afraid for,

is herself.



She experiences the same demons that shorten my nights,

the same voices that ruin my days

and I know for sure that ceding your heart to the wrong person

will do no good,

it only enhances everything, worsening your madness.



I know what it is like to loose yourself in a battlefield,

to love the wrong man.

I know how toxic it can be,

how it alters each one of your cells

forcing them to ask for more and more

turning you into an addict.

Making it barely impossible to go back to being by yourself.



She is the only one the blame

no one’s pushing her into his arms,

his ***** repugnant arms.



Maybe I care too much about words and art,

but he doesn’t seem to master any of those two.

He is just a rough soul who never stops to think and create.

And they are the worse kind of people,

those who never write, paint nor draw.



Because I can assure you that

you will be his art, his first canvas.



And darling, you know how the first drafts

and even the following ones

are never handled with precaution.

They are yelled at,

burnt,

mishandled

thrown away.



Art isn’t supposed to be nice,

it is messy, dark and usually teared into pieces.

So darling, enjoy your time left as a single entity.