Adicción

Es a esto lo que llaman adicción? si es así, esta es de las peores... no se puede saciar ni siquiera por un instante, no es la persona adicta la que decide cuando saciarse, sino es el objeto, "sujeto" mas bien, quien tiene todo el poder para innundarme e intoxicarme o dejarme en carestía.

Reverie

Locked up in her confort zone

made up by twenty five walls

and a thousand labyrinths

where she walks over and over again.

She has been playing with the pictures 

in her sheltter´s walls

she has given them a soul

she has made them come to live...

at the end they have messed up her soul.

She sleeps and dreams about a thousand facts.

Sighs and tenderness turn to life under her reverie

that grows as a monument of her desires

to finally crush down to the ground 

as soon as she opens her eyes 

and sees the sunlight.

Gently, every night she knits a bubble to hide in

but the fear of the ending of her world never leaves,

meanwhile she looses herself to her own fantasy

becoming blind and deaf to everything else.

Zzzzz....

uf! q cansancio!!!! y parece q no acaba ni acabo de hacer nada, cada momento hay más y más por hacer!!!!! *ponte a hacerlo, pues!*

whishes

Let´s go away where the heart beat be the only law

and happiness the only judge...

somewhere where your smile is sunrise

and your sight is sunset.

Let be your presence heaven

and our company music...

emptiness and moon our treasures

 words, sights and thoughts our hands....

 ** I found this in a notebook and decided to remember the feeling of it while re-writing it

Tan lindos!

uuh!! mis lirios están por florecer!!!! siii! hace algunas semanas transplanté unos y ayer me di cuenta que ya tienen capullos. Son preciosos! los lirios en general, son mis favoritos, estos huelen tan bien y sin importar que tan seca la estación siempre salen, luego de haber dormido bajo tierra casi todo el año

wondering...

I feel I´m changing. Something is changing inside of me. There´s one thing I dont know. Am I going back to the way I used to be? or am I just becoming something else. Sometimes it feels like I´m going back, like the old me is returning, like the old me was sleeping and now that things look a little like before she´s getting up, but then I feel like due to everything that has happened there´s a new me, a different me, one more complicated, one more... one that I cant understand, one that  I cant control completely cause any day is the same. I feel like I´m mist moved by the breeze. I´ve never questioned myself about who I am, but sometimes it feels like the appropriate thing to ask....

Winter

I´m in the middle of the winter. I love rain as long as I´m behind a window, under a roof watching the raindrops falling from the cloud. Fresh and humid air is like a caress to my skin. I love soft, light rain when I´m outside, the kind that touches the skin leaving little shiny drops.

I´m in the middle of the winter. I hate rain when it falls thick and hard, when I get wet from head to toes. It makes me cold, it puts me in pain. I hate rain when thunders come as a background music, though I like their light all strong, pretty and destructive.

I´m in the middle of the winter, and you are the rain.