viernes, 12 de octubre de 2012

Alter Ego

Como ser yo misma no es suficiente, me voy a comprar un alter ego. Un otro yo que sea más y mejor. Alguien de sal, por si acaso, con el corazón de agua y el estómago de hojalata, que si se oxida no pasa nada. Un traje a medida que no se rompa con las caidas, y en las idas y venidas en la colina de Jack y Jill, se quiebre todo menos la crisma. Funda de látex y gelatina. Láminas de gel sobre las pestañas. Pinturas y purpurina, que nadie diga que no brilla. Igual me pierdo en el camino, pero con mi alter ego, ¿qué más da?

martes, 9 de octubre de 2012


The one changes, the rest gone, and it's a holiday day, and we were supposed to meet, but here I am alone on my bed, watching hours pass me by. Pointless. Pointless to try. Pointless to belive we'll be ok in the end. Pointless because I'm alone and you're not the same.

EDIT: Not pointless but painful. Painful because I care, and I know you do too. Painful because at the end of the day I just wish I could hold you and figure out what to do. I just... I guess I worry too much, and feeling lonely won't help.

sábado, 6 de octubre de 2012

Rowing boat

Long like fingers, reaching through the dark, deep waters, reaching for a shade. What if I tried to reach for you too? All gone, all I care for, all I ever loved, left me alone on top of this island that some call home. It is not.

Nostalgia bites me hard, like a pulsating rain, pounding down, onto my head, clawing its way into my heart. Where did you go? I can't feel you anymore.

I can't very well row this distance that separates me from the shore. What am I to do?

I need you so much closer.

I want you so much closer.

I'd love you so much closer.

I can't have you any closer.

And I'd cross the atlantic swimming only for you, but it's a mile too long. You live far, Mars and beyond. No way to figure out where you've gone. So come on, come back to find me, because I'm at my wit's end, and I can't help missing you, but don't know what to do.

Come on.

jueves, 4 de octubre de 2012

Skinny dip

Are we looking for a happy ending? Your voice lulls me to sleep, fills me up with rejoice. Morning comes ever so often ever so soon, and it cries for you. Take my hand, one of this days, you're gonna have to take me home with you. Fall in the deep ocean together, as skinny as the day we were born. Drown together.

lunes, 1 de octubre de 2012

Do fairytales really exist?

Is there a beauty for the beast? Is there a little mermaid devoid of voice, turning to seafoam for not killing her love?

Moving pictures across the screen, faces I seem to know, people I'll never meet. Flashy lights of Hollywood? Is that all there is underneath? True love turning the corner, is it love? Really? Can it be? Love is truth. Love is being vulnerable, yet stronger than ever. Love is being there, always, even when you're not wanted, even when you know it's all unrequited, like beast was for beauty, when he knew she would never love him for what he was. Love is trying on your better self for the sake of that one person. Love is... Well, not this.

I saw his face, slashed, burned, dead. She loved anyway. I saw one cross the world to meet a first love forever kept in her heart. I've seen men and women brave methaphorical storms I have yet to see the likes of, break the deepest-rooted taboos in our society for that moment in the morning when you wake up and he's there. But I'm babbling away. What I mean is... I don't know what I mean, meaning got lost in somewhere I don't remember. What do I mean? Maybe I mean that I should have been stolen, like Ygritte and her Lord Snow. Maybe it's just that I don't feel the princess anymore, without no prince charming. Or maybe I'm meaningless.

They say beauty is skin deep, but who could love a monster? In this day and age, there would be no beauty for the beast, cause fairytales lie dead in a ditch.