I. Superman

I'm above the sky.
Superman, the Jew Hope, Nintendo.
I didn't have a fear.
One, two, three.
Four came just on sides,
early mornings and dark skies.
They carried me away to places I did not know.
Until one day. It must have been
the shock, it must have been
the fear. I walked on thin ice
hoping to make my way to something I did not know. I've seen the life
through different eyes. I've seen life even through your eyes.
Life can be beautiful, but that pain had a prize.
I stopped on the fifth. And everything was red.
My head was exploding, my eyes were not there.
I remember. I remember the pain.
I remember how all has slipped.
I remember the days and time.
I stopped. I stopped because I was nothing. Because I was dead.
Will there ever be a day where I don't
                                                               wake
                                                                sleep
                                                                 bleed?



II. A L C O H O L

I
bleed *******
I
cry the *****
I
drink my pain
I
scream inside my troubles
I
hold my breath
I
am sad


III. I remember

I remember the day I saw an image of you.
It was long ago. I blinked, once
twice, three times you were still there.
I haven't met you, yet. I never know if I will.




IV. I met you once

It's 3 p.m. and I have left for a while.
I can't stop thinking about thinking about the way you left that day.
You kissed my cheek.
I can't stop thinking about the way you spoke. It makes me weak.
I can't stop thinking about the way you sound. It's not allowed.
I can't stop thinking about the way you look. It makes me stay.
I can't stop thinking about the way you say to stay. It's one more day.
I can't stop thinking about the way you whisper. Are you a wizard?
I can't stop thinking about the way you breathe. It makes my blood seethe.
I can't stop thinking about the way you kiss. It is a bliss.




V. No One Loves Beauty

The definition of beauty in the dictionary , appeals directly the physical part.
You are beauty.
People are struck at your grace.
They love your divine face.
I am beauty.
Not made to be loved.
Only to hear her call.
You are beauty.
Happiness marks your body.
Sadness is hidden in your soul.
I am beauty.
Never to be loved.
But lusted for by all.
The most beautiful people
don't have the same smile as yours,
their eyes are different.
Society implies the physical beauty.
I remark the inner one.
Society is made up of monsters.
Would you listen to them?
Would you let them tell you what you are?
You are beauty, in every little sense.
Your small eyes, when waking,
Your perfect shaped face.
Your curves, or excess.
It holds a special magic.
You are beauty.







VI. 227 Hours in 42 days

It’s what I had.

Thursday. First 12 hours. It’s always the first day. Everything starts on Thursdays. We met in front of the statue. Your hair was all over, because the heavy wind. I didn’t know what to say. Excitement filled me up. I didn’t know what to do. Time flew fast, though I was still. I craved your mouth, your hair. I hungered for you laughter. It took me one blink to know what I want. It took me a thousand to know what you want.
Day 2. I kiss you.
Day 3. I leave you again. 36 hours passed.
Day 4. We both know something. We both know I leave, but we don’t say.
Day 5. Thursday. I return. I was waiting a long time. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me back. She tucked her head under my chin. She says she loves me. That I am the first. 70 hours.
Day 6. She’s waiting. Working. Running.
Day 7. I love you, even though I did not brought you flowers.
Day 8. Naked.
Day 9. Booth.
Day 10. The place is shifting. My head twisting. Everything slowly turns into a bad story. I left you. And you left me, for the moment. Somehow we met on the road. It was not pleasant. You kissed my jaw line. Your lips were hot lite meteors of flesh, soft. I rested my hands on your hip, waiting and thinking. Love. Flesh. A river crying down. It was smooth and delicate. Rough. Our fingers twisted around one another. You are mine. But it was Thursday. And it was over again.



VII. I

I wave my notes around in stations.
And leave one to each of you to have.
I did not want to hurt,
You will be better off.
I do not want, to ever write again
I leave with one thought:
That some managed to know me,
That in life I do not want the money from the lottery
Not even luck,
You can take what you want.
I miss.
You. And now it’s you and not them.

*

I miss you.
and this is why my days are sorrow.
I miss you.
I never thought someone like you can exist.
I miss you.
with every second that’s passing.
I miss you.
your mouth over mine to bend.
I miss you.
I never had I will have this pain.
I miss you.
and I start to believe that I loved you in a different life.
I miss you.
and my head started to make plans.
I miss you.
how the sand misses the waves.
I miss you.
and it’s not just something that will go away.
I miss you.
wanting to love you in the other life.

What does it mean to me;
She asks as she looks into me.
My reponse, a tied tongue
As she kisses me and relaxes me.
My proverbial tongue does as it's asked

"It's all about perception you see,
And what context it's been used in.
It can mean the endless cycle that is Saṃsāra,
In where karma is responsible.
But rebirth in my eyes
Means something closer to home,
Rebirth isn't about physicaly dieing
It's about letting the old you die
So that a greater, better you is born,
Like in religion when you are born again
You didn't physicaly die but rather
You opened a new set of eyes
And that is what rebirth means to me,
When you let go all of that which holds you back
And the person who held onto all that dies;
You are set free as you are given new life and new eyes that aren't blinded by past actions and experiences."