Confession...

it's not my death that worries me,

it's my wife left with this pile of nothing.

I want to let her know...

though that all the nights sleeping beside her
even the useless arguments were things ever splendid

and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said:

I love you.

C. Bukowski

PS: Nothing ... NO THING... NO.

I saw you, in a way
Beyond figure out
These lines of life have been drawn & can't be removed
Our eyes is all it took to know

Open up your eyes
Deep blue, glassy take
& swim 'til water & sky
Now are one, out of two
Oh, my bloodshot eyes

Open up your mouth
Touch your lips to mine
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death & survive
Your words have branded my mind

Still i hold your hand
Wrapped as if a ring
We of flesh & blood are only carrying
It's so hard to

Well, you know

The seed waits for the reaper to sew
Every breath an art
The dignity to it can strain & break your heart
Take all your pieces home
You ask when you're alone, "what is love"
The blood is love

Future...

I'm gonna suture up my future
I ain't jaded, I just hate it
See, I been down too long
It's kinda hard to explain
Done and buried, all I carried
All my evil through a needle
As if pulled through the eye
What was and what will
They're all gone

Don't sweat it
Thread it to forget it
To feel like you're already gone
To the rest of
The rest of the life that you've got
Take a picture
Bury it all away

Try to fake it
I just can't take it
I don't care if it hurts
Just so long as it's real
I won't waste it
I turn to face it
I'd sharpen the knife
Then used it to bone, made it dull
Tried explaining unexplained
Got caught in the plan
All this talking at once
I've been giving my love away
To the things that tear it apart
I'm gonna suture up my future

Love & Fame & Death

it sits outside my window now
like and old woman going to market;
it sits and watches me,
it sweats nevously
through wire and fog and dog-bark
until suddenly
I slam the screen with a newspaper
like slapping at a fly
and you could hear the scream
over this plain city,
and then it left.

the way to end a poem
like this
is to become suddenly
quiet.

*Hank Dixit

Ya no transpiro las cosas, ahora las digo...

Es verdad que no hay muchas cosas mas que el techo.Y pensar que uno
invierte toda su vida inconciente, manejado por la inercia. Algunos
buscamos despertar y otros buscan dormir pero no se enojan al
despertarlos.

Siempre supe que mis obseciones me llevaban cada dia mas lejos. Ya no
podia permitirme creer en algo como el "amor".Cuando por fin lograba admitirme
algo, llegaba otra persona para deslumbrarme y renovaba mi fé. Otra vez
creia en un "pseudo amor". Cuando uno cree que nada vale la pena, que nada tiene sentido, que la
vida es meramente aburrida y peor aun... sigue viviendo. Ahi es el
momento en el que uno se da vuelta como una media y se olvida de toda
su logica y hasta de cuantas veces habia visto al mundo a los ojos.

Quizas prejuzgo, quizas me arrepienta de lo que estoy escribiendo.O
quizas escriba muy bien y la tenga RE clara.

Aveces creo que vivo en piloto automatico,pero esos momentos en los
que la paranoia y la ansiedad consumen el oxigeno y me sacuden el
alma. Me hacen sentir viva. Me haces sentir viva. Me haces sentir.

Podria seguir escribiendo asi mucho tiempo pero se que si me pierdo en mi, me
reconozco en vos.

Aveces quiero que me duela menos el deterioro.Quiero heroes imaginarios. Quiero humo y oscuridad bajo la lluvia. Quiero correr y agitarme. Quiero divagar en tu mente. Quiero saciarte de sentimientos. Quiero alimentarte el espiritu. Quiero ayudarte a buscar tu alma. QUIERO...TE QUIERO...

Te extraño y solo puedo ahogar mis penas en nicotina. Intento pintar y solo oleos cubren mis dedos. Ya no es algo interno, ahora esta por todos lados.Te veo y te siento
en todos lados.

En la noche, pasando todas las barreras, atravezando puertas muy
lejanas, mucho mas alla o quizas solo en mi mente. Mientras suspiras en mis manos o lejos que tan solo lo oigo. Mientras fluye y compartis mi locura.

"Bailamos la danza de las ratas y ruego todos nos vean como ratas"

I Know You Are But What Am I?

-No recuerdo que me ata a mi pasado...

-Se me escapa el tiempo y solo lo veo irse...

-Habra una filial del borda en Europa?... venis?

Disciplina...

Am I still tough enough?

Feels like i’m wearing down

Is my visciousness

Losing ground?

Am I taking too much?

Did I cross a line?

I need my role in this

Very clearly defined

I need your discipline

I need your help

I need your discipline

You know once I start I cannot help myself

And now it's starting up

Feels like I'm losing touch

Nothing matters to me

Nothing matters as much

I see you left a mark

Up and down my skin

I don't know where I end

And where you begin

I need your discipline

I need your help

I need your discipline

You know once I start I cannot help myself

Once I start I cannot stop myself