it was a mere figment

clouds in the water
drops in the sky

her wonders went up high

on a warm summer night in July
a young girl settled down in the valley of roses
lips curved up in a smile
while the grass tickled her fingers
her eyes wandered up to the sky
at the stars who were beaming

the moon felt bright
she was in love with the sight

.es que no importa cuanto la beses a ella,
seguirás pensando en mi.
.es que mientras más intentes olvidarme,
más me recordarás.
.es que no me se me disuelve con alcohol,
ni se borran mis trazos de la piel.
.es que por mi culpa mueras sin saber,
que es son los escalofríos a primer contacto.
.es que tal vez no vuelvas a experimentar,
los pelos de *****.
.es que te malcrié con tantas caricias,
y ahora no sabes qué hacer.
.es que aunque mis manos son pequeñas,
te hacían reaccionar.
.es que no habías conocido un amor tan delicado,
y no encontrarás otro corazón tan tierno.
tan fuerte.
.es que yo te quise,
cuando el problema lo tenías tú.

el problema conmigo,
es que yo soy la solución al problema que tienes tú.
y me perdiste.

Of all the flowers, I relate most to the rose
Because everyone who touches her bleeds.
I always thought that it was nature’s way of evening things out
Even the most beautiful creations must have their flaws
And so roses have their thorns,
They hurt everything they touch,
And that is life.

I realize now that the thorns are there to protect the rose
Because leaving something so delicate without defenses
Must be a sin.
And just like a rose, I am soft,
And my thorns wouldn’t hurt everyone around me
If they didn’t handle me so carelessly.
If they were gentle, and kind, and not constantly trying
To take a cutting for their own,
I would not have to defend myself.
It is not my fault that people cut themselves on my broken pieces:
It is their fault for being careless.

I rather be a single, petite daisy,
compared to a bouquet of thorny,
seductive dripped red roses
who get all the bees attention
while I get a beautiful, delicate butterfly