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Jun 2018 · 189
Gravedigger
Victor Arruda Jun 2018
The more I live
The more I see
That my heart is
But a big cemetery

The words are my legs
Exploring the tombs
I can see guilty digging another grave

Sadness and bitterness
Are drinking wine
Smoking a cigarette
After ***
Naked by the tombs

Happiness mourning at the side
Of a coffin
I think it was her daughter
Self esteem

I sit, and think
The rain starts falling
The guilty looks at me
Her penetrating eyes

Needless to say
That the grave this time
Was mine
Jun 2018 · 390
Écailles de Lune
Victor Arruda Jun 2018
Wrap me up in your hair strands
Gaze that lift me
(Sink me)
Drowned in your arms
Salty waters
Scarce pearls

A glimpse of your body
Singing notes in the deep
Your voice

Suicide

A drowned
Dead by desire
Your arms
Shaping my ascension
A soul blended
In the moon reflex
A lost shell of flesh
Temptation

Aesthetic melancholy
Observing you from afar
Maze of desperation
Slave of a deep desire
Taken and brought
By waves and winds
By echoes that transfigures
Into hollowness

The hope to delight myself
With your sing at the hillside
Wasted life
Filled by your absence

The moon smiles to me
And luck laughs with you
Sat by an ocean
Of flesh shells
Jun 2018 · 325
Subway Existentialists
Victor Arruda Jun 2018
This old man looks so sad
The hollow glance at the floor
Hands shaking
The lack of sense
Pain of conscience
Rude awakening
Who could imagine that
He did something bad

Slowly he approaches the door
City folks lore
Deeper than Hollywood
Cheap drama store

The wind takes his hat
The rush makes he look like a rat
Tired, lonely
Trapped in rusted cage bars

Sour taste of the gift of life
Anxiety, the most faithful wife
For a bottle of *****
He strives
Amidst sands of despair
In the desert of remorse

The subway of broken dreams
Like a purgatory it seems
To make people face
Their innermost sins...

Maybe this is just a big lie
But the old man exists
And the image of hands shaking
Insists.
Jun 2018 · 161
Do You Have A Lighter?
Victor Arruda Jun 2018
She stared at me...
A wink, the red lipstick
Her conscience produced pity
Pity on me, pity on myself
My eyes were lost
While not glancing at the red mouth
Looking for lostness
Scared by shame

Cigarette in my pocket
Could she lend me a lighter?
Stakes are higher
Social life just for the wild roses
Fake 'till you make it
Oh my oh my
My ashamed smile

Cigarette lit
Nicotine and smoke
My brain's got a beat
I have a cheat
Life's a *****
She had a Royal Straight Flush...

— The End —