I do poetry
not for the sake of creating confusions,
or miserable interjections, or an uphill struggle
to unravel such an ignominious mystery,
bound to recollect the scattered pieces of my soul
as it ends a series of endless wailing,
of countless days of badly breaking,
of numerous attempts to keep me from falling,
at the deepest fissures I am left with.
But, man,
Thank you.
I thank you all for that,
for as long as I have an ocean of emotions to feel,
for as long as this life gives me false guarantees,
as long as my heart continues to blindly receive,
as long as the universe gives us a reason to still dream,
as long as you have your eyes to read what I really feel,
I will not mark an end to my desire to fill
an empty surface, so as to truly reveal
that I may refuse to let the world in
but I know I can give it another try
in another time, when I get my old self back
and find her ready to feel again,
fresh and free from fancy frustrations.
Loud and sound, I will someday astound
the souls that tried to bring the worst out of me
and will divulge the best of me.
I'll say, at last, I am finally free,
and thanks for making me see
that even without you, I can always be.
Thanks for the memories.
Thanks for the tears.
Thanks for all.
It was truly a bliss
to let go of what it's not worth it.
Let's think it was worth it.
My crazy, little, once-upon-a-time-dream,
you saw how I ebbed out of my soul.
Now, you will be seeing
how I will flow back to the shore,
with a stronger heart and a bolder soul,
through this bland and lonely poem.