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Yes,
I can get upset
over silly things.

Yes,
I can get angry
at the smallest details.

And that’s okay.

I take those feelings,
pour them into poetry,
or fists against my pillow.
And that’s okay.

But if I spoke of these little things—
the failures,
the sadness—
to everyone,
not all would understand.

And that’s okay.

It’s about feeling,
letting it out,
letting it pass,
and finding peace
within myself.
girlinflames Sep 14
You are not my daughter—
you are the daughter
of his late brother.

But everyone used to say
you looked like me,
that you could have easily
been mine.

And that was fine.
I called you princess,
because you are.

I don’t know
when you will realize this,
but the place you’re growing up in
is a hard one.

I won’t say I miss you,
but I wonder—
do you ever miss me?

Because in the few moments
we shared,
you clung to me,
you painted my face,
brushed my hair,
and for a while—
I became a princess
in your kingdom.

I hope the little time we had
was enough to show you
there is more to life.

Never stop dreaming, Nic.
You can go far.
All it takes
is believing.
girlinflames Sep 14
There’s a girl at school
with porcelain skin,
white as snow—

but her wrists
are covered in red lines.

I had to report it
to the administration.
It was the right thing to do.

I don’t know if she knows
it was me.
But now she lingers
in the principal’s office,
her face even paler,
nauseous,
locking herself
in the bathroom.

I fear I’ve made public
what was sacredly private
in her universe—
and that it may get worse.

My chest feels heavy
imagining what she might do
to herself,
if they don’t care for her
the right way.

Because once,
I was a girl
just like her.
Tuck in your breath under your chin –
cheer up with a chin up; taking all that
wants to hurt you by the chin.

Asking himself, "how did I wind up here,
winding the clock in my back, searching for
something in the past; "those silly laughs,
those silly long hugs that wrapped around
like they belonged.

Both snuggling closely on that party sofa.
“But no, I shouldn’t sleep over,” she whispered.
He was still speaking in volumes, to own the last
control of his remote living.

Those expectant lips hoping for a soft taste
of goodbye. But the other party let down their chin,
chin knocking away his kiss. Dismissing me with
a gesture gentler than words, sharper than silence.

The night ends in tears.
To feel the hum of skin—
a rhythm under flesh,
bleeding ears of melodies
louder than memory.

Flaws fall, resting like
skipped notes on the floor
of silence. I said,
"I’m not a song, not a chorus,
not a chorus, nor the neat refrain
someone can replay.

Yet these songs in my ears—
they take me in, to teach me
how to belong.

I’m not a song, but maybe a lyric—
unfinished, still searching for the
right line. Perhaps in due time, to the
metronome of my heart.
girlinflames Aug 19
Life begins mid-scene,
no script in my hands,
just a trembling voice
and the weight of the spotlight.

I stumble through lines
I never agreed to speak,
yet each word lands
as if carved in stone.

How cruel, this urgency—
to shape myself in seconds,
to wear a costume of flesh
without knowing the story.

Still, the stage keeps turning,
stars lit above my head,
and the only truth I carry:
every flaw is part of the play.
girlinflames Aug 20
They called us weak,
but we returned brighter—
diamonds no longer hidden,
thunder no longer hushed.

I walk into the storm,
shoulders heavy,
yet my spirit unyielding.

The world may strike,
but I carry a kingdom in my veins.
Every step forward
is a promise kept:
we will reach the home
beyond the river.
girlinflames Aug 18
You have been called 'too much'
just for feeling.
Silenced,
when all you wanted was to be heard.

You’ve fought the invisible.
You’ve overcome the sadness
that had no name.
You climbed out of the pit of depression.
You walked away from a love
that called you a burden
just for existing with emotion.

And yet —
or maybe because of all this —
you stand here now,
ready to take a step
greater than any step
you’ve ever taken before.

Perhaps what holds you back
is not lack of ability,
but the ache of becoming vast
after being made so small for so long.

Understand this, sweet girl:
no one sabotages themselves because they want to fail.
They sabotage themselves
because they fear rejection
for daring to shine.

And so your soul whispers:
“What if I could fly a little farther?”

Let your blood remind you
that you are still alive.
No soldier waits to feel confident
before entering battle.

I have conquered silence.
I have conquered erasure.
I have conquered the darkness of the mind.
Now I conquer my freedom —
because it is mine by right.

I will no longer live half of myself.
con todo mi amor para Arturo Patricio Linares Salgado, de quien florece por ti


No llegué buscándote, ni sabiendo qué querías.
Y aun así, sin darme cuenta, ya eras parte de mis días.
No hubo promesas, ni fondo musical,
solo tú, hablando de lo normal.
Y yo, entendiendo que algo dentro de mí
ya no volvería a sentirse igual.

No era azul, ni rojo, ni gris.
Era verde
como lo que crece sin pedir permiso,
como lo que nace donde algo ya estaba listo.

Desde entonces, todo tiene tu esencia.
Tu forma de estar cambió mi presencia.
El café sabe distinto, el cielo brilla más,
las cosas simples pesan, como si el tiempo no pasara jamás.

Me sorprendió esta forma en la que te volviste mi raíz,
como si al respirar te amara más, como si mi cuerpo te dijera: “aquí”.
Como si mis manos recordaran tu piel
y al tocarla, entendieran que no era por placer,
sino por fe.

Fe en eso que no se explica,
en las miradas largas,
en tus muecas raras,
en la forma en que se abren mis grietas
cuando nombras mis palabras.

Amar(te) en 4 días, ¿quién lo habría dicho?
Pero no hubo prisa, solo un salto al abismo.
Un “te amo” que no fue grande ni dramático,
solo real, tan simple y tan mágico.

Y sigo sin saber cómo explicarte
que mi sombra se mueve al mirarte,
que mi piel busca tu contacto,
y mi cuerpo se enreda si no estás al tanto.

Que no hay forma lógica de sostener este temblor,
este deseo de contar tus sonrisas
y entender el idioma de tu voz.
Que cada segundo contigo
es un eco sin reloj.

No te conocía, y sin embargo te reconocía.
Como si algo mío, que dormía,
se despertara con tu risa,
y dijera: “era por aquí,
era este el punto de partida”.

Y aunque no sepa darle nombre,
ni quiera encerrarte en una definición,
te juro que hay algo en ti
que vale cada contradicción.

Así que si no entiendes todo lo que siento,
no importa.
Yo tampoco lo entiendo.

Solo sé que me pasa contigo,
como un campo que florece después del frío.
Como si por cada respiro tuyo
yo también respirara más mío.

Y si todo esto se reduce a dos palabras,
que sean estas:
te amo
aunque no haya rima,
aunque no haya calma,
aunque solo quede el alma,
mirándote crecer
mientras crezco entre tus ramas.
Con todo mi amor para Arturo Patricio Linares Salgado 💌.
Un poema en verso libre sobre la forma inesperada, cotidiana y mágica en la que el amor transforma todo, desde cosas simples como el café, la luz, la piel, los días, hasta cosas mas personales como el autoconocimiento a través de otra persona. Escribirlo fue una manera de dejar constancia de lo que siento, aunque todavía no encuentre todas las palabras.
Y, Arturo, si estás leyendo esto...
quiero darte las gracias por inspirarme todos los días.
Gracias a ti soy capaz de escribir, de sentir y de crecer de maneras que antes no conocía.
Este poema es solo un reflejo de lo mucho que transformas mi vida.
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