Friday, September 30, 2011

the missing half


fresh start
and thoroughly clean
great scars you've left everywhere
when drawing from all over
the pieces left of your love
as fingerprints.
Time to look back
and not feel empty and absurd,
used and unloved,
at the foot of imminent death.
It's time to get acquainted with loneliness
to no longer have and be so scared.
To understand that for more
that this breakdown occurs,
this feeling of distress endless torture
maybe you're not,
or do not want to be,
the missing half.

ciao


No goodbyes, 
no torture, 
no lies, 
no confessions, 
no words, 
no hugs, 
no cutesy hearts, 
no photos, 
no dates, 
and calendars 
with tears on the other 
without knowing 
or present, 
I let you go, 
no screaming, 
no sink , 
nor break, 
nor forget.

cure of love.. Absence


He scored the excuses, lies, follies, dropouts, the wasted years. He thought that possibly it was feasible to save and also there was a risk of a new frustration. Still did not assemble the bags and ran behind the first interpreter blinded lover who escaped the plane and appeared dream straight out of Aladdin's lamp.
He never knew before how terrible was the loneliness until that time because she had always avoided, except once in a few weeks of loneliness caused her ankles allergy which had been abandoned by her and her ravings. Now there were other symptoms: burning a width in the soul, eye swelling, pain, thoughts, tears day, evening and night, shortness of breath, trembling, anger, disappointment, distress, and a rare transparency in the chest that heart left outdoors.
Little did what she was hurt layers of the soul, how sense could be the cry that arose in the belly to reach it, its distance of freedom, joy and loneliness. 
She knew only instead of sadness and hatred, of broad failure crowded and dusty on the shelf. He wanted to sink into an abyss, a pest invading your home, she condemn the guilt she knew perfectly. 
He felt his silence as a dagger stabbing her portrait and chasing all day, taking in a spectrum. She saw the grotesque frivolity, as a usurper.
He had called and written lengthy letters, had appeared in her dreams, to steal a kiss, but even so rejected and her soul came the morning tired and thirsty, after crossing the arid and vast distances that had spread among them. 
Thus, a victim of their immaturity, their whims, their comparisons, it was absolute quiet before jealousy and repressed in the distorted image that showed the mirror, with bleeding tears, with love getting out of the body. Going nowhere, exile, anxious, moistening tissues whose point seemed to be endless in the galley of a magician. 
"Goodbye loneliness ultimately go away. I do not want to meet you " he thought. She saw his empty suitcases, his hands pressing her clock forward in inverse proportion to his desire to see it. The black and white landscape remained intact. 
"So it was, then he would feel the death of love."
Today is one of those days that sometimes 
makes me want to rip your shirt 
and get lost in the tumult that we will both create 
with all our memories and our legends taken down. 
Today I have 
you. 
 I, 
so eager 
to lose the time to be with you 
and I'm 
lost in the bricks and flowers that lock you 
to give you the freedom of my stake as the outbreak of peace and open space. 
Oh, you feel like taking off your shirt.

H U R T

This error is inexcusable, 
this neglect, 
this damage you've never repaired, 
the delayed compensation 
that I hope to release your faults, 
this malicious lie 
and this delusion, 
that taint your love and void.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

'm a little weird n life's a little weird, n I wna find someone whose weirdness is compatible with mine, join up n fall in mutual weirdness 
(Dr.Seuss)
..that's what I want :)