Espada

Oscilar en la ambivalencia

del límite y el deseo;

me hago abismo

insondable tal

que me fracturo

en lo más desconocido.

No busques acercarte;

es caer en una noche 

eterna y sin estrellas.

Soy tumba recién sembrada,

ocupada y devastada 

por la espera

que aborrezco y necesito

mientras me pudro con el fin

de florecer.

No me mires

a menos que desees 

entender el barro

o verás la nada.

Sólo soy perceptible

por mi propia mirada.

Mi silencio, tan filoso

que la lengua encerrada

me corta la boca, que igual, 

mantengo cerrada.

Cuando vuelva el día, 

seré aire;

y estaré sin estar

en todas partes.

Límite//Deseo

No quiero sentir que tengo que usar mi silencio para protegerme de vos. No quiero sentir que no puedo compartirte cómo me siento. No quiero que pienses que podés dominarme. No quiero tener que ser bestia para que me respetes. No quiero perderme por amarte. No quiero que sintamos que no es suficiente. No quiero tener miedo de elegir cuidarnos. No quiero tener miedo de tus juicios. No quiero que seas duro conmigo. No quiero que tengas miedo de mostrarte desnudo. No quiero que me subestimes y pienses que podés aprovecharte.

Quiero que nos abracemos enteros. Quiero que nos amemos, nos cuidemos y queramos siempre lo mejor para lx otrx. Quiero que juguemos, que crezcamos y que nos abramos a los cambios. Quiero que exploremos y nos divirtamos. Quiero que nos demos la mano y caminemos juntxs el camino que vamos construyendo entendiéndonos y respetándonos desde quienes somos, nuestras diferencias y lo que elegimos juntxs. Quiero que podamos conocernos genuinamente, darnos lo mejor y acompañarnos en la búsqueda.

The Cure

Her heart was broken, smashed, destroyed. One could say she was bleeding out, but her soul was still seeking salvation. Someone had told her about a doctor. He was supposed to have a cure. So she set out to find the land where he lived. 

She couldn’t help but to remember how she got there, to that very point, with every step she took. With every tear that rolled down her face, she found herself back there. And no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to forget. Even though she already knew those memories, or rather, those nightmares would never be erased from her mind.

As time went by, she noticed it was colder. And she saw white and then red, all around her. The sight of her blood tainting the snow was the clearest sign that she was running out of time, so she sped up. Then she felt exhausted. But she kept on going; despite everything growing colder. She used all the strength left in her body and ran. The landscape became fully white and she knew. It was over, she was freezing.

She had been lying down in the snow for hours and any hope left inside of her vanished with her soul.  No one was able to tell whether she froze to death or if she died due to the fact that her body had been left without a single drop of blood. But everyone knew for sure, she died because of the cure she never got to find, love.

 

P.S.: This was written by a teenage me. Nowadays, I think that cure is inside, but as a kid, I hadn't learnt that yet. Actually, I believe it's always inside, altough the outside sometimes can help you find it too.

Phoenix

Lying covered to the head, I hear my sheets creak.
Oh, death, is that you peeping me from the edge of my bed?
Oh, death, you're so sweet whispering in my ear. Talking resting dreams.
Oh, death, you always so tender coming to me. You, so known to me. I could never fear a friend inviting me to reborn again.
Oh, death, come hold my hand as I give you all my dirt. Cause you and I, babe, can make it pretty afresh.
Oh, death, I know you well. But you don't know me, cause every time you come, it's a different me you're here to take.
Oh, death, you indulge me well. You never claim me whole, cause if there's something that you know, is that I won't follow you all the way until my body and soul have experienced my all.
Oh, death, you too know, I'll always love your other face, life, the most.

Agua

Siento cosas que no puedo escribir. Cosas hondas, de azul profundo. Ocultas y acuosas de los rincones donde no llega el sol. Me rodean entera, y en el agua, una sólo puede aguantar la respiración por cierto tiempo. Ahí me pregunto "¿qué pasa si dura más de lo que puedo aguantar?". Porque técnicamente no es agua, es agua emocional, y creo que las almas no pueden ahogarse en el océano emocional. Pueden llegar a sentir ahogo, más cuando no se hacen cargo de sus branquias. No las pueden ver ni sentir, entonces retienen el aire y sienten que se ahogan. ¡Ah! Sin embargo, es preciso "ahogarse" para reconocer las branquias y respirar agua de crecimiento.

Or may be...

There is a huge battle going on inside me. But I don't know who's fighting. One is kinda me. Like a living corpse of me, cause no matter how much or hard I'm struck, nothing really hurts me. And it's like I only fight back with the flame of my eyes; just my eyes move and hit and express. The rest, as dead.

And I ask myself so many questions. I don't know, and right now, it kinda feels like I don't want to know.

Is it me? Am I the one fighting me? Am I the beast?

You know what? Just brake my ribbs (not like there's much meat around), rip up my skin, grab my heart and take it out. It's not working right. I think I need a new one. You can keep the old one, I don't dig it anymore and I can't grow a new heart if there's no place to store.

And the puzzle... It's there, in front of me. I see it, but I don't understand it. Is it complete? I feel like it's missing a piece! Meanwhile, I'm losing my peace.

Bosque

Dame el aire del ocaso,

cálido y vibrante,

y yo jugaré contigo

a que amanece.

Cuando se duerma el sol,

que se prendan las luciérnagas.

Miremos con los ojos

como nos mira la luna llena;

quizá iluminemos

la penumbra del paisaje

con la luz que habita

en nuestro interno.

Que los besos 

se transformen en risa

de las cosquillas

que trae el encuentro.

Démonos la mano

y sintamos juntxs

la expansión que nos atraviesa

como un sueño,

donde todo es posible

porque decimos sí.

Seamos puente entre mundos

que se rozan sin saber

que ya se saben.