The voice in the oubliette

Una añoranza una nostalgia una sombra conocida que se convierte  en persona desconocida presencia sorpresiva una añoranza una nostalgia un momento de duda y luego recordar con la cabeza fría y el corazón caliente para escribir y silenciar el pasado la nostalgia la añoranza

Desconocido Un campo sembrado de rayas Un espacio protuberante y convexo Dónde anidaron tres corazones Desconocido y paciente Donde cabezas inquietas reposan Almohada borborígmica que mueve a risa Desconocido aunque siempre presente Asalto al ego que se olvida de su forma Bulto al acecho en el espejo Siempre un pinchazo en la conciencia

¿Para soltar las palabras estancadas en mis dedos? ¿Para darle forma a los mundos atrapados en mi pecho? ¿Para deshilar las mortajas anudadas de mi lengua? ¿Para esbozar lo inasible? ¿Es muy tarde? Es muy tarde Es tarde Tardé

So many , many years of this: You and I the same routine. You, coming back into my life: Predictable like a comet's path. It was over a year: Between last time and now So many , many years of this: Turns out I'm not ok with that "acknowledged": this is not how friendships go "life is too short": you're right, I'll give you that So many , many years of this:This time I will not seethe This time I break the path: for me. I'll burn this bridge: This time I'm the one who disappears Friday's dust Turned into a saturday's It wasn't meant to be this way It wasn't meant to end so late

El hombre es libre. Su naturaleza, mutable.  La existencia es absurdo. Un abismo insondable tiempo inasible. Náusea. La existencia es absurdo. Y ante el absurdo solamente queda la elección.  La elección que es ineludible porque va de la mano con el ser. Toda elección es acción. Incluso la no-elección es una acción. La existencia es absurda.  Pero ante el abismo de la angustia: la elección. Y con ella, el compromiso, la responsabilidad. Toda elección es acción. Incluso la no-elección es una acción. Elección No-elección Libertad Angustia Compromiso Responsabilidad Elección No-elección Elección soy Elijo Soy

el color de mis uñas nunca como ahora color sangre

las paredes medio vacías. los cuartos casi vacíos, el librero en pausa el eco del teclado, la ventana abierta para que entre el aire sin ruido de la calle los pasos de mis perras que entran y salen un lengüetazo de la más grande, que entra a asegurarse que sigo viva en el silencio llega, me lame y se va y yo en silencio en el frío sin nada con qué taparme y la espalda tiesa afuera alguien usa una pala y mueve grava una voz de hombre dice algo de una lumbre y yo en la casa fría en silencio

No hay palabras, sólo abrazos. Y un llanto que no es mío, anidado en la garganta.

Red lips Wet lips Hungry lips Full lips Bright lips Electric red Lollypop red Neon red Artifitial red Blood red In your face red Lucky lips Smiling lips The rest is black

Tengo una nalga acalambrada ¿Quién me la desacalambrará? El que me la desacalambre, buen desacalambrador será.

Mama, she says, he's got diamonds in his mouth and an unforgiving heart that constantly reminds him all the wrong things I said shutting down all the doors for me and I wonder if it sings to him all the good thing I've done. Mama, she says, he's got diamonds in his mouth and eyes that can be cold as steel when his heart whispers to him all the wrong things I said that he never told me anything about so I'm left to wonder what exactly did I say that his heart wont let him forget. Mama, she says, he's got diamonds in his mouth...

And when finally the shit hits the fan, there's nothing left to do. Except maybe light up a cigarette and try to decide where should I start to clean up the mess, maybe pretend for a bit that there's something that can be salvaged from the wreck. And then just toss everything away.

Today, out of the blue, I thought about you -lasted less than 2 sconds- and my heart skiped a beat -or two- ...took me completely off guard

seven hundred times i thought of you a voice of innocence i hear it calling i know it's you now i realize that it's just hurting for the first time i feel it aching i know it's you seven hundred lies seven hundred ways to hide the fact that i am longing longing for you but now i see it... i feel it... it seems so right a trace of light that i will follow 'till i reach you

Im a wicked little monster a vampire out of place in the middle of the desert the ghost in your machine the words your tongue wont speak the nightmare of your dreams

I FELL BETWEEN your velvet eyes dark as ink; I START TO FAKE that I could see the hope within THE UNMENDING BREAKE of future sins. The longest fall this fall of mine can only end IN SLOW DECAY

Come and meet me by the cemetery I'm waiting under the moonlight: Make my sorrow fly away my spooky little boy. Hold my hand trough the fall, lets dance under the moonlight. Come and meet me by the cemetery, under the cool night rain: Walk up to me whisper at my ears, make my eyes shine under the moonlight. Lets take a leap into oblivion, hold my hand trough the fall. Kiss away the talking stars under the pale moonlight.

I... I can't seem to know where I am, what I am, where I'm going; I just want to feel the sounds and the lights playing in my skin and the sweet caress of the never ending cold. The heat that used to burn deep in my soul is gone... there's nothing left of me. I just wanted to feel once upon a time (so real, so sweet) pretend I wasn't really this little wicked monster that I am; I just wanted to pretend I cared now I just don't care I just want to be me (so sweet and innocent and twisted) this wicked little me no more shields, no more masks I just wanted to feel safe in my own skin, no more doubts, to close my eyes, to walk, dance and dream in the cold night feeling the air and the moonlight