Tag Archives: poetry

Here I am

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One sentence brought it all back, waking it up from wherever it was fast asleep, waiting to die. The ache, the anger, the love.

One day made me forget it all. The sugarless drinks, his metallic smile, the errant eyes, the three dogs that lay on his lap.

Papers were torn. Hope was reborn. Gladness to have taken things slow. A relief in not fighting or forcing my heart anymore.

I changed a likeness topicality, for a full of love restrain. It is so hard to control all my senses, that yearn, wait, and don’t have.

My eyes, skin, ears, nose, mouth. Just one? No time for me, no active plans, just a spoken future that doesn’t begin to touch down.

Help me endure. Again, every morrow. Despite, and in decrease, of my neediness, explosiveness, corniness, childishness. Despite it all.

Tell me I am yours, only. Tell me you are mine. Tell me words are meant to become facts. Tell me forever has crossed your mind.

Here I am. Not minding temporary distance. Claiming for a window to the future that will let me see that everything will be fine.

Here I am. Knowing what I want. Sabotaging the good you bestow. Begging my doubt to be wrong; begging for you to shot it down.

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Almost it all

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Unsuccessfully repressed anger. A constant and unrelated -if soft- headache.

Awake. Sleep chasing after me. Do not think. Do not feel. The bird and the fish.

Frustration that built up with desires of flesh and soul that have not been met.

I have not failed to see the easy coming beauty. Precious ephemeral rose beds.

Memory needs strength. The reasons. The differences. The love. The needs.

Life. Mind. Heart. Body. Trusted to a sense of certainty. Certainty and hope.

But cursed I am. Cursed it is. The feeling. Curiosity met by creators of doubt.

No one understands. Compounds. Same elements. Different arrangement.

Tears have stopped coming down while seated in uncomfortable bus rides.

The kite has been cut from the cord. Repeat the words. I do not care anymore.

Let it hurt. Let it burn. After one -only one lifetime- it will be gone. Almost it all.

Starts with the 12th and the 15th

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Put on a brave face now, hustle your step

Sing not in the frequency matching my soul

Pack up your bags and come downstairs

It has arrived with dawn, the time to go

Forget it all: truths, lies, facts and acts

Weep not one more time, miss the glow

The treasured memories were overrated

Dreams did not have the chance to grow

What it may have been and what it really is

Do not fool your eyes covering what is known

Unfold your wings, sail tempestuous skies

Listen to the wind whisper, this was not home

Silence

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There he is, unkempt and bold.
Bitter tastes dissolve in the memory,
hours inflict themselves to the past.
Nevertheless, he prevails, might last.

There he is, tender and old.
His breaths can now still be heard,
persisting in the corner of the eye.
Senses can no longer be defined sly.

There he is, treasured and cold.
He then coexists with reason and pride,
taking close refuge in wounds and doubt.
If only wonderings could cease to shout.

There he is, will he not go?
Stay for the best, pray, not for the worst,
not in a lovely story for the wind to blow.
There is much in life eventually to know.