Supernova

Blood. So much blood. On the floors, on the clothes, on her face, everywhere. I would have died to protect her, but Christmas was gone and I had no more wishes left. I tried to stop it, but there was nothing to do but say goodbye, kiss her furry face and ease her pain. One minute, and then the next she wasn't there anymore.

It sure is funny how time flies, how it has already been a week and a half of a world where she no longer greets me when I arrive, how it has been such a long week, and yet I can't believe so much time has passed. In a way, it felt like time should have stopped with her. And I can't count how many times I've yearned for her, cried her absence. How angry I am, because she deserved better than to go that way. How I wish I could turn back time and make things better, if only to ease her way out.

I have found that time doesn't heal, just dulls, that love is priceless, that memory is where the soul lives. That the only way to ease the nightmares is to recall the good times, moments of sunshine and rivers and laughter forever ours. That day she chased ducks, the day we found the six-leaved clover, the first time I set my eyes on her brown ones, her silky fur under my fingers, her happy yips when I got home from a trip. Her loyalty, her undying love.

So here's to my precious girl, so that her memory never fades, even when my brain can no longer recall her.

I'll catch you on the flipside. 

Cambios

De visita por el baúl de los recuerdos me vi a mí misma hace casi 4 años. Qué triste, qué patética, que bella. De tener la oportunidad de hablarme, me diría lo increiblemente hermosa que era en toda mi frustración, en todo mi dolor, en toda mi humanidad. Me diría que no me podía imaginar cuánto cambiaría, pero que abrazara esos cambios, porque eran vida, pero bueno, esos cambios son precisamente los que me llevaron a donde estoy en este momento. Y desde la perspectiva que da el tiempo, todo ese dolor era bello, como es bello el dolor de un parto. El nacimiento siempre es doloroso, pero es necesario.

"Cuánto has cambiado, nena", me diría, "aunque tú aún no lo sabes; pero dentro de ti se está gestando la semilla de la libertad, la semilla de la felicidad." Y que un día comprendería que hay muchas maneras de amar, y que ninguna es errónea, que no estaba equivocada entonces como no lo estoy ahora, que el amor no duele y quien te quiere te cuida. Y yo te quiero, princesa. Te quiero.

Summer

Like madness. Witnessing the death and rebirth of a phoenix in the flames that we made. Falling in the pit and coming out again. I see it through fractured glass, silent company and drunken kisses, and the flames. It burns and we burn with it. It laughs and we laugh with it. Like madness, in your arms I feel free.

These bonds are shackle-free.

Hold me down (try)

I'm well acquainted with the demons under my bed, know them by name, greet them when they pass me by. I've no qualms in making them come out.

I'm well acquainted with the feelings and the absence of them. Like a switch inside my head, I turn them on and off, only losing control around the ones I trust, I'm battle hardened enough.

Funny to recall how human I seemed to be, twisted inside out by lies and deceit. Guess there were bigger monsters than me.

But much has happened, then and now and in between. Much growing. I've seen loss up close, I've shrugged my shoulders and let it all go. I've used that pretty mask, and they all fall for it, like a moth to a flame. And there are these quaint little circles with not much room in them. Some fall inside, some I pushed out, but don't ask me to care what happens to the people outside. There's no use.

So the monsters have all gone and thrown a stupid tantrum, thinking that it would be alright, that they can go and hurt what's mine. I've said it before, touch what's mine, I break your hands. You're too damn stupid.

Smart monsters don't pick on people that have a monster guarding them. And I'm the biggest, meanest monster in the room. So go get hiding.

Daily cuddle time

This is my every morning. I open my eyes, feel that small weight on my chest, and know she's there, demanding love. And so ensues a time of purrs and caresses, and kneading and bunting, and failure to do so results in tiny, adorable bites to my fingers, hands, arms or really whatever's close to her mouth. It's quite alright, baby, you can demand love from me all you want.

Boy, oh boy

And suddenly, one day, without a warning, you're back in my head, hitting me with renewed viciousness. Mom's diving through old papers, and one pops out. I see it, she doesn't see me see it. It's so subtle it's barely there, you see how they did all they could to hide it, to never acknowledge your existence, but when you know what to look for, it's a no-brainer.

Subtle, but they keep on dropping little clues and I keep on hoarding them like puzzle pieces, and I already have enough of them to see the picture, however fractured it may be. A picture of past lies, of tragic ends where beginnings should be, of you and me. Blond hair and green eyes and our bond. Boy, oh boy, our bond.

Starved for your touch...

...and counting the seconds to have you back in my arms.