Abuse, avoid, forgive, abuse, avoid, forgive
It’s never ending a cycle of stupidity I allow to continue
We talk, we have fun, but I must follow the script

A cycle of stupidity I can’t break free of
Oh, how family can cause so much pain
A crave for love, and a crave to love
And all they crave is to be on top

But it’s not my fault you’re not the favorite
It’s not my fault you’re lazy and dumb
But it is my fault I stay
Stay in this box, broken and withered,

I stay with hopes you’ll change
But it’s been 15 years
And your grip has gotten stronger
And your heart has gotten colder
As my heart falls further

But I crave for love and protection
I crave for normalcy, and to be able to confide in you
But you’ve left me to fall apart like a box in the rain

I see others and how they live
Their hearts full
Not like mine
Not like yours

Not like your empty, broken heart
That knows nothing other than breaking mine
Not like my broken heart
That knows nothing but to try and fix the pieces.

Oh, it’s truly a cycle of stupidity, and I want to break free
But I live in a world of abuse, avoid, forgive

The brand of our skies lingers — soft kisses
drifting through the air, and I seem to lose every word
except for one whisper: “I love you.” As our love roars
like an anthem beneath a midnight sun, where my tears
have soaked the tired pillow of a heart that rests only
on the thought of you.

Each rhythm of speech stumbles into another pause
before a kiss, and like the taste of a wish granted, I find
my voice again, always to speak of you in reverent tones,
for you stand atop the mountain that houses my heart.

Your eyes; perhaps they’ve forgotten the worth of time.
There’s a watch not on your wrist, but bound to your leg,
always stepping over it.

And while the sun maps out your days, the moon is a pin
dropped at the final stop. Tomorrow isn’t promised —
no more than a compliment from a stranger. And just like
that stranger, it stays nameless until you dare ask its name
by dusk. Where the Sun Whispers, and the Moon Waits.

—por que cavas cachorro?
—por que siento está tierra fría
—esta tierra es fría, pero cavar no calentará tu cuerpo
—he nacido del fuego, soy un hijo de la tierra, del magma, intento volver a mi masa madre
—es imposible, si eres hijo del fuego, cavar te dejará sin oxígeno, y te extinguiras
—entonces viviré aquí arriba, y me haré sola, comeré sola, y tendré que hacerme una casa entre tanto frío, entre este piso blanco

love will burst this skin
a shedded entity

unseen by mortal eyes
singing a song from another world

I write when I feel numb,
when to my mind I succumb,
when I wish for a magic spark,
or just a lantern to light the dark.

I write because my silence speaks,
from my brain, phrases leak.
No shape or dimensions needed,
just a soul finding meaning.

My mind has no sides,
no up or down, no left or right.
It offers no strong emotion,
no sense of relief or renewal.

It weighs too much from time to time,
making me cross the line.
To stop the needle from digging deep,
I pick my pen and let it bleed.

On dead trees, my lungs find breath again,
As I unravel a swirl of thoughts compressed,
hoping to sort the tangled thread,
I write what the silence left unsaid.

Pienso conjeturas indemostrables ,
Toda mi mente funciona así
o tal vez no.  
No lo sé.  

Cada idea no contiene certeza,  
Me engaña, juega y me cansa,
y cuando al fin creo ver luz  
Todo se presenta para humillarme.  

Es una broma cómica,  realmente comica
una trampa que no es trampa.  
Tan pronto como creo tener razón,  
Me descubro equivocándome  
y luego dudo de haberme equivocado.  

¿Y si no soy arrogante?
A veces me convenzo que lo soy, falacias, o no
A veces mi mente es un sitio poco seguro
Desconfío de todos
Principalmente de los que no desconfían de nada

¿Cómo confiar en un otro sabiendo que no es real?  
¿Cómo creer en algo  
si hasta la verdad se me escapa  
como un sueño que se borra al despertar?