being under suspicion of using AI
not sure if its a compliment or not?

• moved my hair away from my neck
• spreading it on the pillow like flowers
• his ribcage is full of flowers too
• there were flowers in his thighs
• the flowers, i ripped out of my heart
• that garden was too, too sweet
• would kiss the purple bruises on his translucent soul
• ***** my mind
• he once touched to ease my aching
• gentleness to the ugliness of me
• wonderful riot in the air
• i would kiss him to stop the swelling
• a humming in my chest
• when he left, he took the splendidness of sun with him
• it’s easier to cry in pain alone
• it sinks into my body
• i slept with your memories
• scarred and tormented
• my baggage still carries your smiles
• old voicemails
• creak of the bed for someone leaving
• a chasm began
• get lost
• because you could only love me sometimes

(hey. you still there?)

they say in different dimensions
the decisions you did not take
are the only ones that remain
for the you that exists in parallel
i wonder how she lives
is it a better life, perhaps?
'cause it's hard to say i've got a great one

(you know, you should just accept it)

there's so much, though
how do i live
how do i experience
when one decision causes me to miss out on the
what could have been's and the almosts'

(they're not always that bad)

but you say it just because
and i live
the intensity
there's so much to consume
love to give
kisses to be exchanged
hugs to be shared
feelings to be said
movies i'm yet to experience
music i'm yet to hear
books i haven't read yet
moments i haven't gone through

(why do you always think this way, this much?
i feel lighter, but there's a mess within your being)

a storm.
so much to offer
the world's got a turning pov everywhere
and it matters
'cause why would i spend my whole life living
in the same normals
the same feelings
mistakes, foreign meanings, and all the sudden dreamings
when i could have much more
just accept, sometimes go against the flow
why define
when i could be anyone i want

(it's 2:14, why are you awake, still?)

and when i see you
perhaps
after a decade
i'll still meet you with a smile on my face
and i'll be as fond of you
as i am in the present
and hope that you'll look at me
the same way, with the same glance

(just let it go)

but there's so much to hold
and there's like a million things that i'm yet to do
a thousand people i haven't come through
whispers, and confessions i haven't made
memories and feelings i haven't shared

(i've been wondering)

my head goes numb
it explodes the next thing
everything i hid, comes undone
and when you look at me
from a distance
when i don't notice
you'll see
how the mask falls
how i let it grip me
how i just change it all
and i'm the same
but with you
in front of you
i don't bleed
i put stitches, temporary as they might be
and i face you
tell you all that you dream
listen, find every single possible meaning
and maybe you don't want me
maybe they don't like me
but i do
and that'll continue
and i'll fade out
stay in background
but that's how i've always been
maybe, just maybe
there could be a parallel me
where you and i
make these decisions together
and then one day
we wouldn't have to choose
and there won't be a chance of any mistakes or another

(i love being alive)

but the parallels can't have the same thoughts
so what do i say?
admit this is all that i've got
but i'm so much more!

i dream with an innocent kindling
that sears and leaves an imprint
behind my eyes
and if you see it in just the right light
you'll see the hues
all shades — pretty, darker, sometimes a nice pastel
and often, the tiny blues

flickering imagination left to chance
dreaming about crossing the horizons
that weren't ever mine to dance
through, holding hands
i like holding hands
and touch
express it in the way you grip onto someone
say without saying
so different from living without loving

my hands collide
against the glass walls
that glimmer with condensation
from the heat of the moments
and some solemn passion

(but do you believe in them all?)

paradoxes
could be / shouldn't
maybe / wouldn't
i just hope
and hope carries all the trust
like a stream of thought
or blood in my veins
it pulses a rhythm
makes a twirl
slips through, forgiven
hurt me, give me scars
i'll trust,
for that's my part
keep it, betray it, lose it, grip it hard
i'll stay, i'll leave, i'll be present — just not here

(wipe it off.)

i do
and i look in the mirror
see what looks back
i smile at her
she doesn't laugh
she stares
frowns
judges
scowls
fumes
breathes
sighs
looks down

(you let it get to you, again?)

ants creep around the sweet
they're always on the lookout
find it, the smallest of crumbs
and suddenly they're all about
sorrow takes that place
a misspoken detail
sits, waits
grief comes up, surrounds
takes the hold
rakes me whole

(i've got something going, i'll have to hang up)

multiple things
a lot, actually
it's overwhelming
do you live?
or do you simply exist?
is it enough — all that you do?
is it okay — all that happens to you?
i want everything
yet struggle to feel anything
the voice whispers
she made braver decisions
i took the harsh ones
i hope at least she had it easy
if i couldn't bring you peace
maybe you're like her more than you like me

infinite possibilities to one single question
the line goes silent
as if the call has been dropped
but i know you're there
and i know you see it all

do you understand, however?
existentialism isn't really everything this is about
a vulnerability, the kind — i let take over when the veil drops
i reach out, i do
but it takes the stronger to notice, the weaker to hold me through

i keep thinking about it
versions of me
the ones who made perhaps the different kind of mistakes
i don't regret it
they say, "love however brief, is never wasted"
it's not mine, i wish it was
such a good thought
i wonder who wrote

sprinkles of chocolate
coating the forlorn
it's meant to give you the dopamine
one that you need to keep going on

(hey, i'll call you later — breathe for me, and stay right there?)

i've been
staying
same place, same things
the only changes — they repeat
and i wonder
if we dream the same beings
they've mapped my nightmares
collided against the sunbeams
endings ending on a happy note
hide the truth — the ones in real life go

bittersweet melancholies wrapped in stillness
silence is when it echoes
a whistle on repeat, almost
the same tune, the same voice
will you come reach out to me
when i'm long gone —
lost in a vague old memory
can we coexist?
can they do so?
can humans achieve it
and not hurt each other in the process of fitting the puzzle pieces and simply letting go?
but i guess, being roughed up is necessary
i'm yet to find myself
there's just a whole lot remaining

(i don't write that well)

my heart swells
my lungs fill up
how do i go along
knowing i could be missing out on all that just wouldn't be so wrong?

(isn't that necessary? for you to be you, for me to be me.
decisions. choices. wonders. dreams.)

so, i'll live.







(you didn't pick up my call, are you awake & alright?)
...
(i've been really good this side, are you alive?)

A river does not beg
to be remembered by the stones.
It sings as it runs,
spilling secrets into the arms of the sea,
never asking if the shore still waits.

The wind does not promise
to return to the same trees.
It carries the scent of distant rains,
leaving only whispers in the bending grass,
never pausing to hear its own name.

The moon does not wait
for the sun’s permission to shine.
It rises in silence,
casting silver over sleeping waters,
unbothered by the turning world.

Some things move,
not because they are chased,
but because they were never meant to stay.

O Barão do Douro

James Forrester, o Barão do Douro,

Veio do Norte como quem atende um chamado,
Nos vinhedos mergulhou sem farda ou ornamento,
Chamaram-lhe Barão, mas foi raiz e vizinho,
Irmão do xisto, guardião do vinho.

Veio sem espada, mas trouxe o olhar
De quem mapeia montanhas para libertar.
Riscou o Douro em linhas de coragem,
Com tinta de alma desenhou a paisagem.

Queria o vinho livre, inteiro, verdadeiro,
Sem o peso sujo do lucro estrangeiro.
Gritou contra o jogo que rouba e disfarça,
Elevou o Douro em copo e em taça.

Desceu no barco com sede de justiça,
Nas águas levou o sonho à superfície.
Mas o rio, ciumento, puxou-o ao fundo,
E o imortaliza no Douro e no mundo.

Mas não, Barão, não foste calado:
Nos socalcos ecoa teu passo marcado.
Nas pedras ainda arde a tua chama,
O Douro não esquece quem o ama.

Em cada garrafa dorme a tua memória,
Em cada rolha um sopro da tua história.
No murmúrio das folhas, no céu da vindima,
Vive o Barão, eterno, com a sua sina..