I need you to help me
answer the questions.

I need you to help me
take off my masks.

I need to see
the roles I am playing.

I need to hear
the lies I’ve been believing.

I need to feel
what I’ve been avoiding.

I need you to help me
become
who I am meant to be.

Please,
tell me the story
I’ve been telling myself.

Please,
my higher self,

show me where
I am hurting myself.

Show me where
I am neglecting myself.

Please,
my higher self,
speak to me.

Tell me with love.
Tell me with kindness.

The essence of crystal
is not fragility.

It is delicate,
transparent.

Elegant,
subtle.

Brilliant,
luxurious.

­Our soul is crystal.

One day they told me I couldn’t,
that writing wasn’t for me,
that poetry was something strange.

I listened to that soul,
that noble soul,
because I admired them
more than my younger self.

Today, I write with feeling,
with my heart in my hand,
seeking answers.

I do it to heal you,
so I can heal myself.

I criticize society,
stereotypes,
and structures that define us.

Poetry came that afternoon
when I described the sweet face
of that young girl.

Poetry came
when that relationship ended.
After giving everything
and having nothing left,
I said, “I just wanted you to love me.”

I would tell you I write poetry,
but they are spells
for the soul.

They impose fears on us
that are not our own.

Where you see darkness,
where you see shadows,
that is where you must go,
and there you will find yourself.

Be strong,
keep going,
not everyone wants to see you shine.

You are great,
you are immense.

Release your light,
illuminate yourself, and illuminate the world.

"The clouds will try to cover your shine, but the moon always glows."

I wrote to you to speak,
I don’t know if out of love,
or so you would reject me.

I wrote to you with love,
but in a negative way,
inviting disaster.

A disaster that would hurt me,
that would punish me.

Because she didn’t love me,
because she didn’t know how to love me.

I felt alone,
but I also didn’t let
anyone accompany me.

It seems I hurt myself,
because I was the first
to reject myself.

A wound marks me,
from a distant time,
which over time
had only been reaffirmed.

I did something foolish,
to harm myself,
and guilt placed me in your hands.

I did something foolish,
I invalidated myself,
so that you could love me.

I did something foolish,
a kind of
self-sabotage.

I did something foolish,
as if handing you the power
to hurt me.
Without response,
without defense,
hoping to wake up.

I sacrificed myself for your validation,
giving you everything,
without ever finding you.

Since I didn’t see
what I was hoping for,
I gave even more.

I repeated the cycle
so many times, to extremes,
affecting your interest
and causing emotional exhaustion.

Creating dependence
on your love,
as if mine didn’t matter.

I surely criticized myself,
surely devalued myself,
surely waited for you to leave
to release this burden.

I let you dominate me,
I didn’t say what hurt me,
so you wouldn’t leave for another.

I accepted unfair conditions,
prioritizing your desires,
never seeing my own,
accumulating resentment.

I no longer knew who I was,
I lost everything of myself,
I didn’t love myself,
nor could I be loved.

I didn’t allow myself to move forward,
I didn’t allow myself to love you,
this fear running through my veins
didn’t allow me to find you.

I will no longer open my heart to anyone,
I stop searching for you,
I don’t want to hurt myself again.

Deep inside my heart,
I knew this wound
could be healed.

It is just a small wound,
one for which I am responsible.

My great love, I will find you,
my favorite girl,
when I finally learn to love myself.

My great love, I will find you,
to play like children,
to have a healthy love.

"What's the price of heartbreak,
with all that I've lost,
and all I have yet to gain?"