Thank you for making miracles
with just a few coins.

Thank you for showing us
the best image
of our father.

Thank you for showing us
what love
can create.

Thank you for dimming your own light
so that we
could shine brighter.

Thank you for every hidden tear,
so we wouldn’t feel sorrow.

Thank you for every silenced scream.

Thank you for all your care.

Thank you for every sacrifice
for our well-being.

Thank you, life,
for letting me count on you.

"Each poem is a piece of manifestation writing."

To be able to be surrounded by people,
and still feel alone.
To be able to love with our soul,
and not feel loved.
To be able to own all the gold,
and still feel empty.
To be able to have nothing,
and yet be the richest,
because we have the warmth
of those we love.

We are all the villains,
of a poorly told story.

According to them:
The revolver sleeps,
with me under the pillow.

Nightmares,
dream of me.

I feed soup,
to the Boogeyman (and he doesn’t complain that it’s cold).

The ghost in my room,
leaves the light on (and asks to switch rooms).

I ended the war,
without firing a single bullet...
because the tanks surrendered via WhatsApp.

The devil,
offers me his soul.

The Grinch,
leaves me presents,
with the receipt for exchange.

The Bogeyman,
asks me for love advice.

I follow,
my own shadow.

Death,
asks me not to seek her.

And the end of the world,
says,
"See you later."

Many times,
I cannot breathe.

Many times,
I lose my breath,

That blow to my chest.

I need a dark room,
to be able to scream.

My mind
always sees tragedy.

Only thoughts,
without owners.

My hands sweat.
A sense of panic,
burning my soul.

Many times,
I leave things unfinished.

Many times,
I see walls
before my future.

I see chaos and catastrophe.

You are my dark side,
you are my ordeal.

You are an emotion,
that lasts two seconds.
You will not control my life.

I just need...
to breathe.
I will not die.

I just need...
to breathe.
I have not lost my mind.

I just need...
to breathe.
I just need...
to breathe.