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Mi carne aveces freída
sintiendo que estoy en la mira
de aquel que desata su ira
y el tiempo pierde medida.

Seguro se me cae la vida
cada vez que un ángel me mira
cada vez que toca su lira
mi alma luego lo olvida.

Siento que nada me importa
por que debería seguirlo
si el demonio igual lo exhorta.

Yo debo impedirlo
si el diablo roba la Bistorta
y así poder reducirlo.
Este es un ejercicio, pero queria compartirlo y ver que opinan.
Flaca tu cabello
desbordaba
cuentos de hadas,
tenias un vestido verde
y un amor clandestino.

Flaca llegaste en febrero
como época pasajera
o lluvia de temporal
mojabas el alma
cuando te veía llegar.

Dejaste vida en mi cuerpo
y sembraste tu amor,
oh! flaca de saber que te irías
te hubiese dado
más besos, más abrazos,
pero que podía hacer
si tu alma es libre,
y la piel lo pide.
This is dedicated to a person that I love very much.
Caminando en octubre
dos dibujos en cartas
fueron los hilos
de mi sentimiento.

Aún te recuerdo
mi niña, mi alma
con ojos picantes
y cabellos de azabache.

Las pelis japonesas
los roces secretos
los días eternos
sigo siendo
el de la mirada triste,
que piensa en recuerdos
y se pierde en el tiempo.

Lee mi mente,
rima en versos.

Eramos tu y yo
de la mano por la calle
hablando de ti
pues siempre supiste
lo callado que fui.
Dogslinwriter Aug 2018
Darling! I am quite a few personalities,
and you haven’t seen me incinerate yet.
I am neither dragons nor phoenixes,
I AM ******* FIRE.

©dogslinwriter
Dogslinwriter Aug 2018
I can dance the most beautiful tango, I swear.
But you my love,
make me a gorgeous, guile
seductress.
You, my love,
make me dance the black swan.

©dogslinwriter
Dogslinwriter Aug 2018
She asks me why do I want to die?
I can't tell her that
I've been trying to avoid this.
I can't tell her that
I lived two out of thirty days of the month
and the month before
and the month before that.
I can't tell her that
I've been sitting on the couch this whole time
and I've been staring at the TV
watching the shows I don't give a **** about.
She loves me.
She loves me so **** much it hurts.
And I am like the fluffy teddy bear
who gives her warmth and comfort
but can't love her back.

And when she asks me
"Why do you want to die?"
It's with a ***** in her voice,
Teary eyes.
I don't have a reason because there are so many,
it's insane.
To see her hurting like
that is one of those.
But I can't tell her that.

She cuddles me like everything depends on it.
Like all the pain will melt away with a hug.
And poets have written about how
their pain goes away with the touch of their beloved.
Then why does it not work?

Why does it feel like winter when
its warmer than summer?
Why do I feel that I should run away
before she wakes up,
because then in the morning I won't have to say
"I can't do it anymore!"?

I have thought of a hundred ways to die,
but I don't want to think how
she will react when she hears it.
I can't stop thinking about her.
I can't tell her; I love her.
Because then she'll cry harder,
it'll hurt her!
I hurt her.
I've hurt her so many times,
I can't do it anymore.

©dogslinwriter
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