Vivi por ahi, con dos camisas una sucia y una limpia.
A Veces frotaba la cara en la sucia y mi conciencia me mataba.
La otra a mi lado no se dio cuenta.
No era algo que a mi me gustaba.
A veces deseaba que la camisa me hablara, que me dijera estoy aquí y que podía ponerme la.

Y cuando se dio cuenta, me tenia reconcor.

Lake that glistens tame to the bare eye.
When you come across it suffocates.
Although it's beautiful and melancholic,
there is a darkness surrounding it.

Pero que la piel se quede asi,
de leche y azucar.
El tono de tu ser en el viento
se da a un tono rojizo.
Aun que la lluvia moje tu cabello
y se vuelva el color  mas cercano a el amanacer
que quiebra la luz.
Rayos cerca de mi, para mi.

Lo pienso y lo que quiero.
Si tu me viste ese dia, y tu pretendes
ser alguin indifferente. Talvez tendre que
ver el azul de tus ojo una vez mas.

Y cuando pases a lado de mi tendre girar
y decirle al viento suavemente las minimas
palabras que quiero que escuches.

Catching the glance of an
Almost stranger almost friend.
Catching my own breath, the seconds
Prolong. Drifting my attention back to the
Speaker.
Legs tired as they touch the ground beneath.
My eyes suddenly aren’t mine.
The dirt of my palms, sand of the turf.

Your eyes reflect the lightest blue
A mirror of me
They never stopped looking while I was lost in
Attention.

It's not my fault they repeat,
they chant, it in the air and it grasps my hair.
and maybe across my heart, I wish it was.
Then I would hate, yes, I would scream, cry, point at that thing.
Instead, now I do it all at the person who I don't even know
And maybe it was late when I clung onto him as his hands caressed my face and got tangled in my hair.
the lies of a liar never end in this
everlasting affair.

Although the truth always comes to float,
a giant hole was punched through me.
I felt as if my life had thrown me back to
the crowd's fallen hurdle and cynical laughter.
The person I envisioned in my future, that person I
wanted to smell through my pores wasn't there next to me.

Although the trees choose what leaves fall, winter is melancholic.
It is expected spring and summer, but what is it about my leaf?
My dear, the expected, the promised.  
Now that I had seen its crevices. It was to let go.
Ugly, disturbing, underwhelming, and maybe
a bit rotten.
Where is my summer,
my spring days?

The maple leaf is here,
and when I watch it,
the crows watch me.
There's a breeze that I can catch
in the quicksand pit stomach of a bear.
to be a child again as I
let go, it feels like I'm old
But my birthday passed and the chains made noise
but oh how nice to finally see the light,
in a never-ending maze I feel happy.