I never meant to be mean

Despite our differences

All I wanted

Was to make it right

To make you understand the depth of my feelings.


You kept on saying and swearing that you weren’t seeing anyone else

When the real question I was asking was if I ever had your heart

You kept on saying you cared for me

When all I wanted was for you to prove it.



And I, who always felt the words comforting

Found myself struggling with yours,

Not understanding all the sentences that kept coming from your mouth

Because my entire being was focusing on one simple sentence:

He is a liar.



You said I don’t have to make any effort from now on

But how can you be trusted

When you made me hope for so much

Yet gave me so little.

You know  how I always say that  our existence should have a meaning?

Not necessary something big,

Not necessary something important and life changing

But something that will affect others

and maybe make their life a little easier.



I feel like I am supposed to be the girl who helps boys like you

to get over a girl they once loved.

I make them forget their lost

I make them forget their pain

I kiss them, I hug them, I make them feel special

even if I know for sure,

they are not thinking about me

when they kiss me so fiercely

they are not thinking about me

when they touch me,

their mind are a thousand miles from here

wishing they had someone else in their arms

wishing for their true lovers to come back.



And it hurts to think that I will never be the one they crave for

I will never be the one they are trying to forget

simply because I am easy to get

and easy to leave.



He touched me in a way you never did,

my body liked it and asked for more

while my soul was digging its own grave.



I am the no “strings attached” kind of girl

I kiss them the night

only to leave early in the morning

while they still dream

about their lovers.

Don’t get me started on love,
for I can spend hours describing it,
I would say things like:
Love is a temporary strike of light in the night sky,
An unexpected moment of joy drown in an ocean of misery
Serendipity.

Love is powerful, love is passion
But love is rough
Love is sadness
Love is smoking a cigarette while listening to your favorite music at the moonlight
Love is writing his name on every inch of your heart
But love is rare, love is precious.

And among all things
Love is gone.

My heart chose not to heal

It just kept absorbing all the sadness it found around

and amplifying it

to the extend that

It turned little troubles

into petrifying nightmares

and basic questions

into existential issues.



My heart kept on dreaming about a world

that was far from perfect

glamorizing each person

embellishing reality  

fantasizing.  



My  heart was simply not meant for peace

And sometimes I am mad at it

for it causes me more sadness

than I have or can carry within me.



But the heart wants what it wants

And sometimes, it *****.

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.