wreck less

wreck less beauty that sparks
I cannot spare you
my blood is my kiss
my skin longs for your yearning.

Which of my scars screams your name?  None.
It is in my eyes where I learned to love you.  It is in my brain,
it thinks it knows what is behind every of your gestures.
It is in my ears which you've enamoured taking them each time  to a new and better adventure!
My hands must hold you and create words/worlds that portray  you.

I am young and I bleed
irregular cycles
there is no way on telling time
unless the time is now.

Don't trust my word
Trust my writing.
wreck less (silent)  I'm fading.
Came with a gift and a purpose
but for me it is idle play
if I can't be your idol.

Scorn, wretched and reckless
when there is no beauty that sparks.
I want to be your mirror.

Her youth is no promise
Her fixed solitude is what's tantalizing.
She finds success in loving.

and when it stops,  it stops.
Blood keeps on dripping
and hair will keep on growing.

I'd rather do it for love.
I'd rather do it for love.
I'd rather do it for love.

My Pink Sweater

black black black black black blue the deepest blue dirty blue gloomy cloudy hazy blue black

My Pink Sweater

He travelled over 8978 miles to see me.
I didn't know what to do so I looked into his eyes
I reached for his hand we holded eachother for a while
but then he pushed me away.
Took my bed and my bread and
my pink sweater.

He came
delated. without care of appearances. Without care
he came and though hostile
he was ever gentle, gentle is his nature.
Silent reserved inmersed

It is summer but the sky was grey and he felt like going out with a sweater
he put it on and he looked so good. Inside my pink sweater.

(You were born to wear my pink sweater.
I was born so I could lend it to you.
My pink sweater simply exists
unconditional.)


Take off my pink sweater if you can't handle the heat.
Threw it to the ground you did and never gave another glance to it.
Though it followed you crawling getting tangled with your feet
My dirty pink sweater it follows you.
Through the streets in the bathroom while you shower every time you catch some other girls eye when a man talks to you as you meditate during the phone with your mother in the alley in a bar at the corner store getting some apples ginger bacon next to you when you read the newspaper when you take my hand and ask for picture of yourself with yourself always trying to get away from the pink sweater tired of the feeling a warm hue gives you at times you hang it around your shoulders take care of the cashmere fluff and dust off my beautiful pink sweater. It follows you.

I am dancing in the arms of another man
he buys me drinks I didn't want but I take them
and keep on dancing.
Black crop top got a cage bearing my back
if you would only see me.

his left hand holds my hand
his right hand parked in my navel
this is me dancing with another.
he keeps buying me drinks without noticing I no longer have a pink sweater.

my cat licks my arm, no rest
she licks
she licks
she licks
how many stings does her tongue hold?
she loves and it is a love that hurts
beautiful thing I want you near.

You tucked my pink sweater in your bag
You don't want it but you take it as a habit.
now it lays outside your doorstep
beautiful doormat
waiting
to fill the space, color your walls pink hot
comfortable present.

Hold you tight when you are inside me
Pink lips kissing sucking eating your Pink tip
you say that you don't want this.
hold you tighter in the winter just grab my pink sweater darling.

It will be laying on your doorstep
calling you
calling me

months of men holding my navel not caring if I'm without a pink sweater.
without it my glasses don't match so I'll be dancing blind. Why would you leave with my pink sweater and not drop word? You so silent.

I'll have to walk into your doorstep and ring your bell
so I can finally say
'Ok, so I guess I'm taking my pink sweater back'

Morir
si,
pero antes decir gracias.
Aun si corrompido este el cuerpo dejar fresco aroma.
Calido recuerdo , sonrisa
murmullo. Can-can.
Beña junto al puño
Ojo picaron
golpe = caricia.
Solo se hacer el amor
en orgasmo suave
me vengo
entrego
gesto
pujo
sana creacion
De la misma manera me voy.
Sin decir adios
Bienvenido sos
miamorrrrr.

mi mundo en ti.

i don't want to forgive you.
no quiero perdonarme.
nada, huelo
me quiero inclinar sobre ti mientras andamos en el metro.
no quiero nunca llegar
ningún destino
solo caminar, contigo.

yo no escribo poemas
escribo cartas de amor
mensajes de dolor.
me quiero quedar callada
que me vengas a buscar en este seco desierto.
irme, todavía mas lejos. y,
jalar-te
hacia acá, hacia acá.
cuerdas invisibles.
lineas directas
paralelas
distintas velocidades.

no recuerdo tu mirada
mucho menos por que reñimos.
Hay fantasmas que me llaman la atención
con deshonras.
El amor no es venganza.
Débiles los que buscan silenciar el dolor con gestos apresurados.
Yo quiero callar mi boca, para que de ese modo el mundo grite.
Quiero que tu seas ese mundo
habitar en tu hombro
mientras somos
nosotros, cuerpos en movimiento.

flor . muerte

1.*
Brotan hongos de mi cuerpo.
no quiero agua ni medicina.
Los pétalos se han caído.
Me apresure hacia el día de mi muerte,
me parecía una bonita dirección.
De un salto impulse mis raíces fuera de la maceta
y sin sarcófago ahí afuera
me quede.
Por tres años los alegres bailaron
junto a mi cuerpo.
Los necios me daban de beber.
Y tu,
y tu me llamabas.
Eras la luz que me tocaba.
Muerta yo soñaba
ciega ante tu luz.
Ciega, yo soñaba.

Asesina. Fuiste,
asesina.
Vamos quebrando esas macetas ,
una a una, al piso
que quiebra.
Míralas
deslizarse hacia su muerte.
Asesina déjalas ser polvo
y como polvo viajar al horizonte
directo a lo que no es un nuevo mundo. ¿Que es?
¡¿A donde vas?! Asesina,
¿A donde es que vas cuando tu cuerpo ya no pesa?

Yo mate la vida,
Acaricie una vida.
Me mordió esa vida.
Te bese, vida.
Me cagaste el corazón vida.
Cubriré mis ojos con khol negra e iré a tu entierro
vida.

Jamas pose
ni mi alma ni mis pies en un jardín
Jamas tuve maceta
Mis raíces no te encuentran vida
perdida me convertí en  asesina.

despavorida de la luz, me corro
inútil frío no logro quemarme
solo espero poder estrellarme.

Queen of nothing.

No one ever called you princess because you were born a queen. Queen of what? Queen of nothing. Nothing to domain, not even yourself. You are born in dignity, no matter what. No matter, whatever, let them loose. Achieve something that doesn't matter. Human nature, scratch the human, leave the nature. It is all words. No matter. We are made of matter, scratch the matter and there you are, with all the rest. I am God. You don't believe in me because you don't believe in yourself.

Princesses are governed by their mothers and fathers, they obey to that omnipresent creator. Had you not created me, I'd still exist. Had I be given no name, had you never called me, I'd still be. I am not in the I. I am not in your love. I am near. No one dares to have me. No one dares to take me. No one dares to love me. Don't you dare, i will never leave you, I was never with you. I am with all of them, them natural beings.

First, I lived on silly books.
Then I moved to Buenos Aires.
Then I went back home, Quito, and I ravelled.
I fucked and I spit. And I took drugs.
I love you them all, but then I left you. Just like so many have left me.
Now I live in Lima, and now I know South America sucks.
I'm not pissing my pants anymore.
Queen of no domains.
Queen without rule.
Between discipline and nature I choose nature.
I could go to Europe and see the one that sucks is me.
And I might just do that.
But I should just decide, to hide
in a tree.
Hide from my unsensitive socialité dreams.

I am a Queen and the only order I will give
will be to myself, when I finally say
'Off with my own head'

It is about what is underneath our organs. Every morning I wake up wishing I would just die, I hear the words come out of your mouth and I say ‘Craaaa aaa aaap!’. Then I’m out, buildings are falling because homes never rose. I just glance at shit, broken roads, bad weeds, beggars everywhere. I learned not to look. We all learned, we have to.

I wake up and I don’t see the point in dying. I am cold and there is nothing worth it. I enter rooms and it’s all chill. Been injesting ‘somas’ since, hell, I can’t remember when I started. But the doze now is higher. Tight dress, don’t care, cab fare, no complaints just get me to the venue, my friends don’t hug, they just say ‘Open your mouth’ and then, then it is all a fog. Thank god.

It is all darkness. I float through darkness and I see you. I see you, I see you. I feel you. What tunnel? Why walk into a light if the light is me?  
No shame in anything that is natural in me. See me bleed, see my tears.
We are magic. 

Ten Shades Darker

I am ten shades darker, not one bit stronger
Hair long on flare, from time, dyes, 'don't care'
Have seen upon my reflection
I am a fog kaleidoscope, vague and vain colorful self.
Have gazed upon the magnitude of ONE, so many doors to so many  distant places, i don't have them addresses so I choose to wander with the mad instead.
I am ten times drunkest, shared my cup with them vulgar so called artists (modern Bukowskis you have no clue of the manner of a young Henry Chinaski)
'don't bother'

My skin is coarse
My courage is high,
had the lot,
been with the worst.
My spirit got rejected by
the clean, the cool, the punk, the hive,
by you.


I am ten shades darker,
sun hissed 'don't know'.
I am ten times drunkest,
raise my cup when I think of you.
I am ten times kinder,
learned to give the nasty it's proper place so you wouldn't have to deal with my rants.
I am ten times more in love for you.

Guns may blaze, I remain.
Are you a dream? Anyway, 'It's all the same'
I am a bruise, dried up, ill versed, fucked up, 'leave it at that'
I am still dancing when I dream this dream of you and me.

Let them spit when they think of me (do they ever?)
It is clear to me for when I go outside into the streets, it is no longer I carressing the heads of flower selling beggar kids, but it is them kissing my steps. (Bless them kids)

The sun may hiss and hiss
The moon sings softly into my ear.
I will make it without you
I am ALL HEART
and I know that in time above my lonely grave bracing flowers will bash
 with the sun, the moon
and them stars.

Venus tiene los ojos pesados.

Venus después de la fiesta, el único corazón roto es el suyo.
Venus planeta olvidado
duerme sin órbita.
Ha pegado sus ojos a la almohada pues teme que al despertar, sus amantes la hayan olvidado.

'Estas tan lejos Casiopea, podrías estar recostada en esta cama y tenerme entre tus brazos, seguiría sintiéndote lejana. Todas están lejos.'

Es una habitación gigante, sin muros,
una cama vieja y pequeña, ella duerme envuelta en Esmeraldas.
Abajo, no se sabe si hay piso, es una enredadera de cartuchos, y serpientes grandes que no paran de enroscarse unas con otras. Venus duerme
no sabe que mas hacer. Esta cansada de jugar.
Se niega a tomarse algo en serio. No hay con quien bailar.

Los demás dioses andan ocupados, organizando guerras, redactando teorías, construyendo puentes, inspirando a humanos, el solo pensar en tanta actividad la agota.
A veces se siente impaciente, así que se levanta y arregla su cabello,
piensa en encontrarse con Magdalena, pero al rato se da cuenta lo largo que es el viaje.
Desganada se deja morder por la serpiente criada en jardines de Amapolas, vuelve a dormir.
Musita palabras que nadie oirá.
Ella es eterna. Es una condena.

Diciembre 2, 2008
3:17pm

'What troubles me more is the sight of his back as he walks away...'

Damn

marzo 3, 2009 (no se a que va esto)


intente encajar la llave en el orifico

mi punteria suele fallar

el genero no libera mi deseo

equellas excusas ahora pueden ir al excusado

Dial 69 For Sex

Junio 12, 2012
10:48 pm

Cory lived in a single room apartment where her bed, and kitchen coexisted with all the rest. It was winter at the time though it felt like a cold spring day. The sun was distant but its rays were persistant. The small room consisted of a tiny single folding plastic table, a matching plastic chair, and a canister full of fashion magazines, twin size bed used as a couch as well, where she sat spreadily and a pink celular phone. 

Life was easy and private. She got more beauty sleep than prescribed, and had no aspirations. She found joy in the little things. Time for contemplation, enough discipline for daily body lotion application. Magazines, books, shōjo manga. Nights out for dancing, lunch with friends, movies alone. 

Her job wasn't half bad. It didn't require any sort of grooming, transportation. All she had to do was wait by the phone from 9 to 3, answer it, and make the interlocutor come. It did require attention, she was a perfectionist. She was good. The pink phone was only turned on during those hours. Body cleansed and groomed she would go for it. She had her fun. 

Numerous amounts of sexual relationships were formed during those hours. She never faked it. Which was hard with new costumers, if you don't click, you don't click. She wanted them to click and fit, fit into that roar. But most were gross, stupid men, they didn't listen. Why did they call if all they wanted was to jerk off. She went with the flow, she was always polite, she was always protected. 
She liked her regulars, they always clicked, they made her come. They were good. It was hot.

Shadow Heart. (Dec 17, 2012)

It was a fortunate moment when he decided to stay put and quiet. There was something strange going on inside her body, as he pumped her with his erection she felt this strange pressure, it was not painful but incredibly unpleasant. So they stopped, but only for a moment. Her love was a whole, his member on that moment was small. He got up from the floor where they had been laying in order to make no noise (some beds can do so much nagging.) He held his hand in front of her and helped her get up.

Lights were out.
There were shadows and sad hearts.

THORNS (what are they good for?)

i drop you a bomb but i want peace
i want your love
so i built a fort.

Perdida.

amor de neón
solías ser platónico ahora eres virtual.
te quiero, lejano
y te quiero sin que tú me veas, tan solo me ames
Yo también quiero ser un engaño.

Deseo despilfarrarme toda,
ser una promesa nunca concedida.
Beso en el pecho, corazón solitario.
Solía creer que las drogas eran solo para los apasionados
porque el que ama no se pierde en sensaciones banales.
Pues, me canse de esperar por esa emoción,
descubrí que ni las drogas me atrapan.
El sexo me aburre.
Soy indiferente a los gritos de mi estómago.
Ya no quiero fama.

Deambulo por las calles,
me pierdo sola entre mis sabanas.
No me veo. Para ti no existo.
No me quejo.
Desisto, desaparezco.

Iré a Marruecos y me haré el amor a mí misma,
y si me aburro de mí, volveré a perderme
en una cama lejana
nadie oirá los gritos que mis manos me provocan
sin eco, rechazare mis propias caricias.
Desistiré. Dormiré.
Me gasto con prisa haciendo nada
me contagiare de algo.
Si mi cuerpo no franca, entonces mi mente.
La enfermedad, un pasatiempo
danzare frente a la ventana de un mundo que no quiero tocar.
Veré a los desesperados corromperse
no habrá intervención, mi brillo no los cegara.  
Soy la fuerza atenuada 
El potencial desnutrido
El chance perdido.
Amor sin valor.
La mujer sin cara.

(me)- LOVERS

me me me me me me
  me                   me       me    me     me me me
ehm?

seven - Untamed

Queer looking, maybe deranged
an old unfitting leather jacket
that suits your bad boy style so well.
The first time I saw you, I saw this freak
wounded and sick
perverted dog.
Something about you just stuck:
that strange from nowhere but your mouth accent of yours
that unattached 'I am not here' attitude you pose
the serenity with which you spoke
made me think
you wouldn't get excited for anything,

you are far too bright to

care enough      to

get excited.
That  excited me.

Stray
never to be tamed.
Didn't realize it then
but as time
spent together passed --
(I don't wanna think I ever tamed him.)
I rather think of it as
a stray dog had put a leash round my neck and walked me
home.

Soneto a Las Hermanitas Freire por Calih Rodriguez

Ya que estoy publicando cosas que amigos mios me han mandado

publico esta vez algo que mi querido amigo escribio hace como un año no solo sobre mi,

pero sobre mis hermanas.

 

Yo creo que cuando se refiere a 'novia del caos sublime' habla de mi

y que la Diana es la 'caperucita tibia'

pero bien podria ser al reves no?

No creo.

 

SONETO A LAS HERMANITAS FREIRE
por Calih Rodriguez

Son cuatro damas de alígero negro
cual rosas desnudas al invierno crecen
ya pues chch presenten al suegro
porque desde hace rrrato quénmen enloquecen

endentren a mi corazon que voy a ir dando
cabalgaré entre sombras con miel en los labios
... si no es así,pupureas, juro por dios, me cambio de bando.

mar de silentes coronas, aves y encías oscuras
a mi cuarto les llevo a toditasff, sexys gaviotas,
guambritas de diablos pantera,, bocas bravas, panifico de ascensor en mis mejillas, parpadeo
de las alas rubias de la belleza, y les dejo asi con este tremulo anillo de divinidades, amen de escorpiones, corazon cariado por los lepones de la desdicha, "ser o no ser"" . ya duraron otros...
amar o no amar, morir bajo sus pesta;as de arena, desdicho desentierro, amapola de aire, romeo chiro, cassanova de buseta, dandy del "urbano bano bano bar"ustedes son mis noches de arabia.

caperucita tibia, la una
novia del caos sublime, la otra...
angeles y rostros en sus pies, zeus cuida su estrella, otra vez regresare al infierno, yo dormido como escoba de deltas desafios, escospion lunar, sexo de cabezas heridas, labios, ostras belleza carniceria alma, lunar y otra estrella, bebe bebe bebeb dotmita, y como el ni;o sagrado dijo rimbaud

una noche sente a la belleza en mis rodillas y la encontre amargarga, y la injurie

six- constrained

this is the prettiest word to describe you.
yet it doesn't describe you.
it is just that I sincerely wish I had been
constrained
the time I thought it 'nice' to date you and be with you.
I really wish I had not.
even though you might have your good points,
paints well, drives well, talks well, works well, spends well,
everything you do is like, well, ok.
can't say you are a fake
you just lack soul or something.

i'd rather be constrained than be with you.
actually, I wish I was constrained to a beautiful body
me in black mesh bra, no panties
tied down
carress this body.
a tall fierce  man.
lady is a punk
lady is thirsty she wants to hump.

i'd rather be constrained than to be with you.
tiny man, with a tiny heart
and this amaizing will to live.
ugh.

i'd rather be constrained
to a clever intellectual, that is desperate to find his soul
and hear the wisdom of a tree
because so much cleverness makes him sick.
and he is constantly mad at me
not because im free,
but because he is far too clever not to.

anyways,
I'd rather be constrained than to be or write about you.

five - Junkies

A junky is a lost soul that craves for more
A junky wants to feel and see it all.
Some junkies can not love.

FAr away he wants to be, I just want to kiss his lips
have him kiss my face,
even though I haven't tried the things you've tried.
Done the things you've done, I want to feel like
we are one (won).

Want to think I am the FIrst girl you've loved.
Except you wont love me,
you'll run away and say/claim it is for my own good.
fuck you, don't protect me.
fuck you, don't tell me who I should or should not love.
fuck you, I wanna be and fuck with you.

FOr the first time I saw you
I saw no junky
I saw a delicious man
that dreamt of mountains,
our indigenous ancestors,
who could wear a mustache like any other.

A junky is not a junky and nothing more.
I could/ have loved a junky
just don't forsake me.
Instead treat me sweets and happy pills
Let us dive in oblivion together.

My Broken Tights

Friday, January 07, 2011

Broken Tights

My broken tights.

I wasn’t ready for the action,

It took me by surprise. Opened my legs as I felt his fingers crawling

through my loins. Pressure, reaction.  

The sight of a young man sucking licking slowly my nipples, in joy.  He is at peace. He’s found a home.

Take me savage. Make me violent. Hear my roar of desire.

More, more.

 It only lasted a few hours. Three to be exact. I would have wanted a whole night.

A whole lifetime of pleasure, it’s so divine.

Constant interruptions, cell phones, alarms, regrets.

I regret none! I’ve wanted him for so long.

Ask me, where is your man? And I’ll tell thee, “He is not home, he is not with me. I want him far. Away from me.”

Enraged crowd don’t scoll me, for I believe I must stay true to the heart. To the feeling, to the pulse, to his fingers.

The crawly fingers that want more, deeper. The crawly fingers of a young man that find their way into the insides of a young woman.

Cheat! Cheat! I longed for the action.

Cheat! Cheat! Im cheating my heart, my pulse and my desire.

Blame me not for my hot adventure. Blame me yet for this constant neglection.

I shall blame my broken tights, peeping holes into my rosy wet lips.

Regret not. Not thee.

 

Suaves y Blancas

Hoy al mediodía cuando desperté
el vodka me hizo ver todo azul
tres botellas de agua al lado del colchón
escupí muchas veces
pero esta bien
solo es una celebración, porque estuve donde debía estar
en tus tetas,  blancas
en tus costillas
en la nave cabaña que nos protege de la lluvia
donde podemos dormir

y pienso pura mierda
me gustas tanto
que me haces escribir pura mierda

esto no es bruto
es amor
puro.

 

- Jose Ibañez

 

 

******

Este es un poema que un amigo escribió sobre mí en el 2009. Recién me lo paso. Me gusto por que es como, tan malo, que es bueno. Buena mierda. Lo público para no perderlo jamás.

 

 

yague, ayahuasca, propósito, huayrapamushkas
madre, amo joder.
madre, amo sacudir, enfrentar, discutir, joder, joder
madre, amo amar.
madre, siempre quise un padre. pero
madre, también quiero ser el simple respiro libre desenfrenado del viento.
y el viento también puede ser tranquilo. alma, alma. alma que nace por si misma.

y me pregunto por que cuando me despido, en realidad no es que me despido. solo quiebro y quiero seguirla, pero quebrada, de otro modo. por que cuando algo esta roto ya no vuelve a funcionar igual, al menos que lo arregles. y hay lastimados que no quieres curar, quieres que la cicatriz te quede para asi recordarla. recordar lo idiota que fuiste.
ahora me doy cuenta que cuando me clave el cuchillo fuiste tu el que derramo sangre
el eco de tus gritos me ha llegado tarde.
y creo que antes los oia pero sabia ignorarlos.
tuve que acumular cortes y cajas musicales torrentes chiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
me tuve que topar con el verdadero lloron para ya no poder soportarlo.
y ya no quiero mas.
no mas lastimados sin bandita, alcohol antiséptico y besito de sanación.
no mas cojos a causa mía.

pero como ser honesta y delicada?
crear no reprochar.
que mis espinas sean un escudo para ti
también. y todo lo que amo
que el silencio te libere
y mi voz
acune placido sueño.

Four- Illiterate

I saw the Nature Man swimming gracefully under the clear sweet waters of a merry family and good values. Nature Man kissed me and said he loved me, and I believed him, like any other, because his actions (not only towards me but towards everything he believes) always matched his words.
I saw Nature Man drowning in the cement, because he hasn't loved a single book about deception. He isn't looking for a slow death, he is looking for a meaningful life.

I can't understand Nature Man just like I can't understand a reason to being here. Nature Man drowns in the only world I know how to crawl. The world of lust, rape, treason and bad taste. I mocked Nature Man because I was envious of his spiritual greatness. I neglected and so rejected his love, which might have been the purest kind I have ever known. And I had to neglect such a great love, because if I didn't the books I hold so tight would have been torn in my head. And I had to neglect his love because if I didn't I would have had to learn to swim in clear water when I already know how to crawl on the cold cement.

El Morro

Cuando me fui al Morro andaba cargada de muy mala onda, y no solo por la noche  anterior en la que mi amiga me pedía que la bese y que me entregue a su novio. Y la propuesta si me calentó, no por el novio que es un chico que me va gustando desde la verdadera adolescencia, porque ya no estoy tan joven, ahora solo adolezco.  Termine haciendo diseños pastel/ neón en su espalda, para que se callara y me dejara en paz sin sus propuestas. Al llegar a su coxis me mato ese cuerpo tan perfecto. Y empecé a tener ganas, de cualquier cosa que me proponga, ¡se la chupo a su novio a cambio seguir viéndola a ella y a su cuerpo que se me hace tan perfecto!

 

Y esa no fue la mala onda, lo mala onda fue que cuando me calenté ella estaba muy dormida, las propuestas terminaron y aun si habría seguido, soy muy gallina como para asumir con actos lo que quiero. Así que me eche e intente dormir, lo que su novio no hizo. Y empezaron a tirar ahí junto a mí, y yo no sé si me incomodaba o me gustaba oírlos.

 

Empezaron a nombrarme.

-          Esta la Sophia!

Yo no decía nada. Sabía que quieran que me vaya pero no había donde ir más que afuera, donde llovía. Hasta que escampo y me largue al patio, donde se encontraba una Pegajosa, que tampoco tenía donde dormir. Me senté junto a ella, y ella me contó de las veces que tiraba ella con mi novio. Solo que el ya no era mi novio.

 

Así que cuando iba al Morro solo pensaba en la Pegajosa y mi ex, agarrándose los mismos días que él me amaba. Y recordaba todas las veces que me sentía yo culpable con él, por tener mi vida desordenada. Pero yo andaba desordenada así, a la vista de todos, sin engaño. Y quizás eso fue lo que le molestaba, que la sociedad de Quito sepa que el anda con una desordenada. Si hubiese escondido el desorden me habría perdonado, ahora me doy cuenta.

 

Y cuando llegue al Morro la gente estaba de a buenas conmigo, no parecía que yo solo era la amiga de la anfitriona, más bien parecíamos amigos de años. Y mientras pasaban los días en el Morro iba descubriendo que aun si nunca los había considerado, ellos habían estado, por cosa de azar, presentes, por ejemplo en el día de mi cumpleaños, cuando me tatué una oveja negra cerca de la muñeca.

 

Y por primera vez de tantas que íbamos al Morro, éramos más de cuatro personas. ¡Más que el doble estábamos! Juntos todos en una playa aislada, en el confort de dos dormitorios, una sala comedor cocina y una buena terraza. Pero el departamento, por mas lindo que es, no me importaba, y el mar por mas bueno que es no me traía cuidado, esta vez eran las drogas. Y había una gran colección de estas, las que no voy a nombrar solo por no difamarme.

 

Lo que sobraba era San Pedro, y como sobraba no dudaron en ofrecerme ni bien llegue. Pero no es que me recibieron con un vaso de líquido espeso, más bien me informaron de las actividades para esa tarde. Intrigada dije que no sabía si aceptar, que me encontraba mal de la cabeza, que mis sentimientos se desbordaban. Que me lamentaba, pero ese día nada mas a la marihuana podría manejar. Nadie insistió. Pero es que algo sobre natural sucedió ese día en el Morro, pues a las pocas horas de encontrarme ahí todo peso se había levantado. Y me había vuelto la mujer más liviana que ha habitado mi cuerpo, liviana pero no desganada. Llego el atardecer y estábamos todos en ayunas, hasta los que no iban a probar con San Pedro sino con Lucy y otras drogas, drogas que no me ofrecieron, de las que en ese momento no sabía nada de. Y con el atardecer, brinde con todos y tome varios tragos del gran Pedro. Ignore la puesta del sol, estaba con nauseas, vomitaba. Y ame tanto vomitar, que cuando acabe lamente no poder vomitar mas, porque no solo expulsaba líquidos por mi boca, expulsaba demonios de mi cuerpo. Todo para afuera, nada para adentro. Y de seguro había mas que vaciar, pero la bilis se acabo. Y me sentía genial.

No voy a hablar de mi relación con todo aquello que se llama Pedro, solo diré que lo amo a él con todo mi ser. Que me abrió los ojos y me cuido. Pedro, Pedro, Pedro. Quiero ser Petunia.

Lo que si diré es que esa vez en el Morro vi, que un ciclo se cerraba. Hace cerca de un año había estado ahí, con otros, y había llegado en buena onda y me había despedido del lugar pesada. Y cuando volví, a los pocos meses aprendí a verdaderamente desear la muerte, empecé a amar la cocaína y lo que significa consumirla. Y no he. Impelido ni una sola meta, un año de esquivar, la realidad pero agarrar cada bala. Y un marica me golpeo en mi terraza, y un negro me llevo de moteles, y es extraño pero todavía me considero pura. Incorruptible, mas yo sé que yo soy la corrupción. Y yo sé que he dejado al buitre ayunar, sabiendo que este cuando tiene hambre picotea. Y tengo cicatrices en el pie que lo comprueban. Aun así, ha sido un buen año, mas el ciclo se ha cerrado. En una semana tengo trabajo.

 

"me tienes que dejar de hablar, me acabo de arrodillar frente a (----) que me patio en los huevos minutos antes, y lo hice  por que la amo y no la quiero perder por nada"
I D I O T A     C U A N D O    S E    A C A B E    E L   R O C I O,   Y   E L   D U L C E    A R O M A    D E    E S O S    P E T A L O S    C E S E    DE     M A R E  A R T E ,    C O N T I N U A R A S    I D I O T A.    E S P E R O    Q U E    T E    T O P E S    C O N     U N A     I N G E N U A     D E    A R O M A     S U A V E - C A B E Z A    F R I A.     V O S Y E L/ T U S E X O    S O N    U N A  M A Q U I N I L L A   D E    F A C I L    M A N I P U L A C I O N.   Y   A H O R A   E S T A S      T A N     S O L O.  A M A R A S    A    L A    Q U E     T E    D I G A   Q U E    T E    A M A,   Y    L A    A M A R A S    A U N     M A S    S I    T E    P A T E A    E N   L O S    C O J O N E S.

Aprendí lo que es el lenguaje de las flores,
A ti te regalo, jacintos Y acacias
pero lo que en verdad quiero darte es un ramo de flor de ortiga.
Y por que nos exigen siempre ser como una margarita? Por que nacemos Margaritas.
Y que significa el concepto de inocencia? Y que importa el tamaño de mis raices? Si tu no me desplantas, el viento me desplanta... Y si el viento no me desplanta, pues seguro me deshoja.
Tu ya despertaste, forzandome a ver que soy
incapas de perfumar.

ruido de passos

this girl got no weapon.
she is the weapon.
a ticking time bomb
ready weary gettouta heare!
How can you grow tired? Opted to seclude yourself and the item
Sent me a poem,

about me though not by you.

That will make it all better... for you.
Repeat the lies I tell myself daily, gosh... Im I really that good?
You bought me! You caught me!
Time for a refund.
Nothing to give back, its better if Im just wasted.

So forget me and ignore me.

Flowers will be torn. Flowers will grow ripe.

''Doctor! Doctor! When does this stop?''
 ''Oh! But it is hell!''

It is just life. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .

(Last dialogue is taken from this short film adapted from the short story Ruido de Passos by Clarice Lispector. http://vimeo.com/11165592 )

Usaras Corona De Flores

y es que al decir que te extra;aba, en realidad no te extra;aba
y cuando te decia que ya te queria aqui, no decia la verdad

femme fatale, always on the run

diamonds on my wrist, whisky in my hand

-Lana del Rey 

Te llamaban 'La Come Hombres' aun si desconocian tu apetito.

Y te llamaban asi, por que tu nunca fuiste alimento. Tu nunca fuiste presa.

De Lolita insistias en probar, pero todavia no sabias si era una verga lo que debias buscar.

Y que tipo de verga? O labio? En readlidad debo este hueco llenar?!

Dicen que siempre hablas de sexo, pero yo se que tu hablas de PODER.

No se trata de ya no ser sumisa. Nunca lo fuiste.

No es rebeldia. No es feminismo. Es ser. 

Si de Lolita nadie te topo. No te quita lo Lolita.

Y seguro estas harta de hecharte, pero a correr!!!

Y seguro a veces quisieras hecharte, al lecho de muerte,

para ya no ser objeto.

Llevaras corona de flores no seras virgen. No seras esposa.

Llevaras corona de flores. Te desnudaras en el bosque.

Que no te importe ser una perdida que danza desnuda en un bosque lleno de lobos,

no seras presa. Seras cazadora. Y cuando tus flores se marchiten

te hecharas al fin, bajo un arbol amante.

Y ahi tu cuerpo se quedara.

Indefinidamente.

Traduccion de un Poema Por Cate Marvin

FLORES, SIEMPRE
Inexplicablemente el letrero fuera del deli decia Flores, y bajo esto, Siempre. Pero no habian flores, y yo nunca he visto un siempre.
Me gustaria, y he buscado. He mantenido mis ojos abiertos por un Siempre... Algo asi, como esta idea de un bolso caro y deseado paseandose en los brazos de damas acaudaladas
que son muy damas. Rode entre almohadones de terciopelo donde escuche que dormia un Siempre, y alguna vez trate de besar a un Siempre pero creo que no era el Siempre que yo estaba buscando.
Me gusta tu Siempre, se ve como una mascota demandante, se ve como si besara lindo y suave, se ve como los lastimados que encontre floreciendo en mi rodilla.  Cai al oir tu voz.
No te preocupes, me pare al instante, camine diez cuadras mas y para eso ya estaba medio camino a casa. Me golpee las rodillas azul y me encostre gateando hacia ti, queriendo flores y siempre, siempre, siempre el deslizarse contra el vinyl frio del asiento de un auto,
tus palidas manos en las espaldas desnudas de mis piernas, ese es un Siempre que yo quiero. Y quien sabria que hay tantas especies de Siempre?
Tus manos desnudas en las espaldas de mis muslos marcando lastimado. Y si tu dijeras 'Flores' dijeras 'Siempre' entonces, pudieramos erguir un Por Siempre
de algo como sabanas y desayuno y un dia ordinario. Mis ojos se deslizarian atraves de la mesa hacia ti, para calentar sus canicas gemelas en tu palma,
mi cara enfloreceria para ti diariamente. De modo que cuando murieramos, a lo mejor rosas crecerian petalos fuera en nuestras gargantas. 


FLOWERS ALWAYS.
Inexplicable the sign outside the deli scrolled with Flowers, and below that Always. But there were no flowers, and I have never seen an always.
I'd like to and I have looked. I´ve kept my eye keen for Always, half like this... idea of an expensive purse coveting it as it appears riding the arms of rich ladies
who are so very lady. I rolled on velvet cushions where I heard Always slept, and I once tried to kiss Always but I don´t think it was the Always I was looking for.
I like your Always, it looked such a demanding pet, it looks like it kisses nice and soft, it looks like the bruise I found flowering on my knee.
I felt down at your voice. Not to worry, I got right back up, walked ten more blocks and by then I was halfway home.

I knocked my knees blue and scabbed crawling toward you, wanting flowers and always, always, always the slide against the cold vinyl of a car seat,
your pale hands on the bear backs of my legs, that is one Always I want. And who ever knew there were so many species of Always?
Your bear hands on the backs of my thighs printing bruise. And if you said 'Flowers,' said 'Always' then we could erect a forever
of something like sheets and breakfast and an ordinary day. My eyes would always slide across the table toward you, to warm they´re twin marbles in your palm,
my face would flower for you daily. So that when we die, roses might petal themselves out our throats

***

vomitar escarcha
de color
a lo largo del pasillo
que conduce el baño al aula, salón, fabrica
cagar estilo
no soy princesa, soy vagabundo
perdido en el brillo
las luces de neón
y el tintineo que creo
cuando salpico agua dentro de la pileta.
no soy mujer, tampoco hombre
no soy puto, ni mojigata.
Tan solo vine a salpicar el brillo.

Los Escapistas

Te traje
hasta el quinto piso.
nivel rata, gris. automovil. basura. peaton/ porton.
entes juntos pero dispersos, siempre secos. objetos del recuerdo, polvo.
vacio. limpio. siempre limpio, siempre a la venta.
lejano y cercano. hogar del niño y del hombre y la vieja.
escalones que dan al viento, el servicio nunca llego, aun asi aqui albergamos los olvidados,
los escapistas.

Te tuve
tres dias antes. En mis entrañas
con la mirada basta
para confirmar los hechos
algo rapido, quizas errado

Te deje

en cabrón nada.



Got nothing but swing like moves

Walking through the moon
without galactic shoes
no Mr. Jackson moves.
Just, walking.
.
Passing through the rocky desert
I found you
inside an empty vast crater.
Offered me a filthy cup
full of The Undesirable Feeling
I gulped it whole, and was left
with no desire
to walk back to earth
in my terrestrial shoes - pathetic swing like moves.

I was left put
inside the hollow crater, with you.
Numb stares, no words. We inhaled the lunar white dust.

Yo no escribo poesia. Yo tan solo escribo
por que mi voz tiembla, por que no tengo publico.
Por que soy palabra, no accion.
Si notas un juego en la oracion,
no son pretenciones mias. Son solo juegos
para pasar el rato,
para sonar bonito.

Yo no escribo la verdad,
yo tan solo escupo ideas.
Las escupo y las dejo huir.
No soy su dueña,
y tampoco las respaldo.

Yo tan solo escribo palabras
por que es facil,
por que soy cobarde.
Por que son tan solo palabras.

The Virgin In Chains



The Virgin In Chains Is Not Really a Virgin.

My mom tells me she carries those chains realeasing us, is not that the chains control her movement, quite the opposite, its her, holding them, getting us rid from them.
We are the ones who are chained.

But when I look at her
I don't see a fight, I don't see no action.
Just her placid face and the chains.
The artist liked her women easy, obeying
the artist might have been a chauvinistic freak.
Or maybe it is our whole religion the one that is whacked
and the artist simply had to portray her like that.

The Virgin in Chains Is Not Really a Virgin

The Virgin in Chains Is Not Trapped

The Virgin In Chains Decides

To give birth,

give a fuck,

look down,

The Chains of A Virgin are Links

to us, and what's terrestrial.

So, Is she glad to hold them,

or does she want to get rid of them?

Rid Of Us.

I like to hang around with the scumb, because they are not really scumb.

My mom tells me

I cannot mix, blend,

she says some humans are in their divine state,
like worms.

And she believes that herself as I,

that we are queens.

She says the world is my kingdom and that I must decide what to do in it,

In order to gain the positive reaction
a holly action needs to be performed.

Well,  I think

'Mother, I just want to fuck.'

Fuck with the worm, 

Fuck with the dog, 

Fuck with the god.

Give away my flowers

Give away my riches

Give my self, away. 

I don't wanna step on top of the snake

I'd rather dance to it. 

The Virgin In Chains, She Is Not Really a Virgin.

She is just pieces of rock carved together

Take Her When She Comes.

Three - Absent Minded

The boy in that punk show
when I knew he liked me,
it was my ego what gained.
So pretty in the outside,
never gave myself the chance to understand what was going in the inside.
Though I think way back then, I was beggining to comprehend.

Adolescent lust, there is nothing like it.
A virginal body is feeling for the very first time, fire.
As we play to press our lips against eachother,
and learn how to heat up the temperature of our bodies
I am also learning that my mind
IS SO FUCKED UP,
and it can play evil schemes just as well.
Guess some girls do need to play it slow.
Things I will never explain.
Things you might know,
things may be forgiven.

Your sexy attitude remains, always posing and looking soooooo hot.
You are a cool game
which I can't ever follow.

two- a philosopher

balls bounce back and forth,

this time I'm a dame with full self-control
restrained because the timing is totally off.
momentary pointless encounters of nothingness
a good chat, good will
FULL MEnTAL desire.
wit can do so much for a girl's illussions
which can make a girl wanna go far
laughs can make a clit shiver
space and time will fuck us up.

a philosopher can fuck as well as he can doubt

space and time can be modified
we need to take a chance.

Hang on / Hang. Gone

hey girl, if you are so fearless, take your heart off your head.

I met this P.E teacher, she was a young beautiful and argentinian. Zarpada. She tried to teach me the facts of love, or rather, the facts of control and male domination. She was a brilliant fearless bitch. Her instinct was on, her game was cocky but effective. I listened and decided to hold a restraint over myself. My impulse. Maybe play some chess, so I'd know how to turn heads and maybe break constrains. Don't mind about regrets. And primarly, since we are females, preserving the virginal image that is so very much required.

I was stunned. I had never heard a girl talk the way she did. And trust me, I've talked and overheard plenty of girls. It was this incredible disregard for moral and feelings. For her it was a matter of who was in control. And being a P.E teacher it is no surprise she'd have a competitive nature. I really don't think people were actually fooled, but I am certain they allowed her to play her games without giving her the scarlet letter.
And I have never been able. Not really.

I've been tamed. I've always acted upon the promise of love
and good feelings.
I guess I haven't really lost,
I've been dumped,
been forgotten, neglected, taken for granted.
But there is no loss in that, it is a game in which we all gain.

I was determined to learn a little from her schemes, act upon lust
and forget love, it would come, if it was to come.
And I guess I have been quite keen to it.
My aim isn't to be as her,
for I will never have a competitive nature,
I will never care about being demure and respected
if you wanna call me a bitch, I might as well deserve it.
And I will never be as cold.
I just wanna gain sexual expirience
become a sex god,
keep healthy and joyful. That is pretty much all.

mouth to mouth. heart to heart.
"You are such a nice girl." Fuck You. 
I wanna fuck you up, real hard.  
The marks I asked you to leave in my body, they will only last a few days.
The lies you've told me will remain as truth for as long as my memory will cherish them.

Take some time.

Patience. Everything will be all right.
To be wanted. Fuck love. Give me passion.
I want to make him come. Come again, you and your light preassured twitching.
How is it that he's got no impulse to chase?
It is a game I want to play, but lately everybody is too modern to give a fuck, give a dime. Take some time.

She is the desperate message. The clear response of a chained virgen.
What are these chains for? Am I constrained? Attached to what?
To the promise of wellness and order. I am hectic and spontaneous.
If I want I take. And I will be taken. Why should never matter.
The lack of action is the disease.
Still, I don't act. I only write. I only think. I only wish.
And I care about the why, and specially about how.
I hope upon a smooth approach.

Thing is, I am fragile.
Too much thrubbing gives me pain.
An unloving farewell leaves me astonished.
I am gonna cut your cock off. Or maybe just kiss it. But I need your attention.
And I don't want to beg.

Don't tell me I can look for you, rather you look for me.

She Must Persist

and to be given life means just the same as to being hold back from it.

inside a glass shell she sleeps. lids open, eyes wide shut. count til ten
ten years isn't long enough. a second is the same as eternity.
but its actually been like 3 years... or 22?
She keeps forgetting her age. As it meant something. Her real age is a secret only her soul keeps.
and the knowledge of life and matter, it is between life and matter.

inside that shell she doesnt find comfort. Her ass feels numb and her heart is sore.
"'The vanity in them." Yes. She finds them disgusting. And yes, she can relate.
cause she couldnt think of anyone as vain as her.
So she stays in that shell. Eyes open, lids shut. Mouth open, words out.

The words she speaks can (and certainly do) destroy worlds she hold so precious.
words out, guns blaze. Rip my heart out.
The thoughts she keeps, create hells she cant brake out from.
So she speaks loud, but her voice is weak and it quivers. So the hell remains inside the shell,
yet parts come out to contaminate.
Concepts are her virus, but she must still go on, and learn more techniques.
We fight cause we want peace, she must persist. and spread the disease.

i let the time pass me by

disposable.

expendable.

caught up in past encounters

letting time pass me by

the recolection of faces leaves a sour taste
Engorged. Filthy. Animal.
Fuck my instinct. Fuck eternal love.

Got no trophy. No pursuit.
...... ..... ..... ..... .... ..... (Shit!)
Was it an adventure?
Time passes me by carving judgement upon the memories
the memories of summer and hollidays past
of a sweet november.
The lack of events post a certain action
a certain drive. a certain lust.

The cowardy promise of a forgotten friendship leaves me wondering:

Was it an adventure?

The only things that remain 

are the objects that were at sight

a black canvas hat, a black t-shirt layered over a yellow long sleeve, the dirt in his hand, a broken tight, returned belt, kitchen table filled with smushed brownie left overs and gifts of weed, a lonely bed in which i was left waiting, a book by J.D Salinger, watercolors, joint, take out chinesse food with extra hot sauce, glove compartment, grey billabong thermal top...(List goes on)
Objects given to good will or maybe
to some other girl that casually passed by. (Yeah, that silly girl got my hat. )

So what are we running away from?
Why must we press upon adventure?

You got to live a little, seek a little,
and let your poor heart out to dry.
That's the story of, that's the glory of NOW.
until time rolls by a little

and all that is left is your corpse buried

to feed some littles

that's the story of, that's the glory of NONE.

Forget your awarness of a pathetic being breathing inside of you
Forget the knowledge that everybody around you is crap
and Fuck this desire to let time pass you by.

I Find MySelf

  ...................................in the image of a body 

laying naked in ignorance with crossed arms and closed eyes.

I used to run away ...

and I thought I was gonna run away with You

I'd run away with you

By My Side

But Im just like you: Disposable, exchangeable.

A fool rushed in who desires to feel
but ends up number
day by day.

.... she's just a stupid bitch.

(Yes. I am referring to self)

the ethereal crow

A black bird appeared to me, it seemed to be a crow. Its feathers were so black that as the moonlight hit on them you could see them sparkle white. The bird was big and the touch of his wings with the cool night breeze emitted a beautiful sound. This continuous movement completed a wonderful sad song.

At the moment I couldnt understand the meaning, it caught me by surprise. I just saw this animal reflection in awe. I like crows in the same way I like animals that ought to be respected and feared. Snakes, bears, wolfs and jellyfish. The crow is just the same. My crow was ethereal.

That night as I went to bed my heart pounded hard in a steady pace. I was fearfull, mainly because I didnt understand the origin of this fear. I said to myself -"Fuck it. You've just heard a beutiful song, and you've just seen a bird. And what a bird!" The night is filled with magic.

A few days had to pass in order to comprehend that this crow was mine. It was not chance. It was not luck. What seemed to be a sporadic delight was actually a warning.

Watch out, silly girl, you ought to be a woman. Feed me, for I am you and I can see you are lacking. Time can fade your body away but the spirit remains. Care girl. Grow girl. You ought to be a woman. Feed me or else. 

Its words to me are now so clear. A crow is a dangerous animal. Feed him wrong, and he'll start poking your eyes. One by one, bit by peak. He will rip away all the flesh, eagerly, forcefully, and it will take long. And it will hurt.

Beautiful bird. Try to hear his song, try to understand. Once you know you ought to be exactly what you believe, you'll find communion with him. And both will fly! You can be his song and the warning can evolve into something deep and lovely. Soul is what they call it. But be careful. One single slip can be so meaningful, one single slip can become habit. Fall down once and you might stay down. Be nothing but raw meat.

For me it was too late. I saw him and I heard that awful warning but my brain is too thick to really get things. I knew all along I was doing wrong. Sleeping late, feeling depressed and tired of my friends, chores. Life, ugh. I can easily get lost in a day dream.

He was getting hungry. Hungry for knowledge, for adventure, for love, hungry for a purpose. Oh he was so patient! He, he would follow me through my day dreams! In wistful loving pace he would follow me!

Oh and Time! Oh it is so fast! Faster than me, faster than my crow time is! So when time took this sudden long leap we were left so far behind. Oh and he didn't like that. On that terrible moment he knew he had been loving somebody with a weak lame body. Oh but he was so furious! So he screamed his song in hurtful tone and he plunged his beak, hard! Straight into my  chest and the flesh was ripped and the blood was draining and my eyes were full of "I'm so sorry"s.

And he was sorry too. And I swear I know this because he stopped and he cried and from that moment he never again sang any song. Just tears and strange crowish howls.
I still had a chance, to do something. Let him take me on flight. But I don't know, I just didn't. I was even weaker without that piece of flesh and that enormous amount of blood gone it was harder for me. So I didn't.

And I was so afraid I no longer had any daydreams just this regret and this "I'm so sorry"s. And he got really hungry and bored and frustrated of my lame body. And time that nasty creature was way passed us, mocking us! So my crow he couldn't hold it any longer. So I have this beautiful bird peaking hurtfully day by day into my vain sin. Oh I tell you it hurts.

And I don't know how much longer I'll be able to take it. Time is so far I bet it can't even recall us. I am out of flesh and so so sorry. But you, you are still young! Oh I'm telling you now, you must understand this. You must make music with your crow because if you just stand there. I mean really it is only but natural to move.

one - the bandal

followed by a troop he showed up, ringing and knocking
a bulgar like any other
who caught nothing yet got everything.

one can be born pure, but by the age of 12 everything is forgotten
im ready to open my legs, tell me how much is my body worth.
im just a girl and your lips get me lush

cover myself, promise me something. why cant a bandal pretend?
not to be himself?
demure and long lasting -coin operated
give me a manual

bandals never play it slow
girls in big boobs never get a shot
a chance, the time
to get known.

Lush lips
crossed lips
hot hips
torn midst

i got to leave the country
a bandal and a prune.

seven

they were seven who got caught into the webs of a fabulous woman
seven to drink from her heavy fluids
seven who got ditched by the same bitch
-though a few were the ones who did the ditching

they were seven bandals
poets
absent minded
illiterate
junkies
constrained
untamed lovers.

Cheesy and Mechanic

As time passed the cotton got replaced by lace

They had told me about Satan, but he was never present, not then.
black fur Satan, white scrappy ears and he followed his own rules
people considered him the king of the night and the city streets
i bought by dimes and millions and bubble gum
i bought them with all that i had
them and all their lies.

Satan was as bastard
breeded and neglected. Wild in the structure of structured homes,
in structured blocks, in plain plains, Buenos Fucking Aires!!
I wasn't the complete opposite, quite raised
and somewhat neglected in a home somewhat forgotten - always packed
just as the streets, the closed walls had no laws.
Thought I was invencible
as Satan
braided to carry on
and destroy
all that musn't work.

but I'm cheesy and mechanic
sleezy and contracted
fuzzy and not long lasting
tape recorder withits twists and its SPLITS!

The Pleasure In Breast Feeding

Her only wish was to carry any living inside her tummy, her instinct begged her to allow a sweet savage to knock her up. She would let them eat her wholly though she despised the feeling in it, in them. She knew it was the only way to get what she wanted. Her adolescence passed, filled with the promise that some night someone would pull her by the hair, spank her and have her. She dreaded the idea of being touched by those lusty man. They were to take advantage of her weakness and sodomize her.
Just when her biological clock was taking its last ticks she met a noble man bewitched by her looks, he was eager to take her as her spouse and give her that child she wanted so dearly.

Right when the wedding was through she took charge and did him time and time again, till she got one. One ever growing stomach, she didn't feel satisfied. Nothing felt accomplished but after the child was delivered and ready to suck her tits. Soon enough she had a fat and strong baby, who was only allowed to suck her, and suck her 24/7. Her life was joyful, at last. Her tits expanded in a natural manner, her tits were never unattended. A calm smile overflowed her. She was mother earth, and it was her duty to be milked religiously. Forever.

But the child grew up and became unwilling to suck her. She would have make him but her husband denyed upon it, claiming it should be him the one who does all the sucking. Forced to toy with the idea, she accepted to give it a try. It could be just the same, it could be even better. He claimed that the pleasure would only increase, he said she would feel sweet extasy. He was wrong. His big hands didnt help, she felt disgust. She hated men. And he wouldn't make it any easy, for he didnt just suck her breasts but he sucked lovingly every inch of her beautiful body. She was no longer a giver of life and health, during the ilicit act she became a whore who gave her body in exchange of a doomed dream. Filthy and weak again, she was penetrated and then she knew she was back on track. She had to deliver and milk as many babies till the day she died. Her milk was rich and her bossom sweet, nature had given her power, it was located on her expanding nipples and when she used them it was an inmense force that talked through her, she was delivering a message to her offspring.

She had many strong babies, all boys except for one. The last. It was a she and just like all her older brothers soon enough she grew tired of that enchanting soft bottle. Mother stopped being fertile, and became weak again, untouched and gelous of her lovely baby girl. So she confined herself with her new enemy, her volumptuous daughter, inside the highest tower, never to hear of man again. Never too be touched and be treated like the whores she knew all seductive ladies certainly were.

When mother died, daughter was in her prime, untouched and naive, purest of them all. She was an ignorant banquet, freed at last, unafraid to see the world she knew nothing of. She only knew her mother breasts, and was utterly disgusted by them, for on accasions she had been forced by mother to suck her even though there was no point in it, for she no longer gave any milk, and her body each passing day became more and more bitter.

The daughter was unchained, and she walked outside that tower, with no clue of what the world was like. Remember: She was in her prime.

love/ law FUCK

Hey good loooking what you got cooking??

You might think i love this song just because you love it too.
I love it cause i love it
and i love the fact that you
love it
too.

Hello lover,
today im marrying that boy who is tough and touches me like if im a toy.
Hey,
I love you
For nothing, for living
I thought i’d get handed something
the fact is I simply want you


Now and then
this is the end
no thrubbing -just let it low down
Im sick and tired
Im done of living and believing
Mostly believing on true things
Simplisity and honour:

You are a sweet fuck.. or just an animal
READY
I'll pick, lay low,
violate your insides
FUCing animal
Keep pretending
There is nothing true
In any


You are right beneath me
and i can't simply pay attention
Which juice is worth the squeeze? You, me? THIS

I'm writing, its been a year and I've forgotten about myself
and I hate me for it.

Say hello to this brand new
WOMAN

She'll be a sweet fuck, just like you
and she'll diminish
Pay no attention
Get whatever it is that you want
Im just a body
So are you


REALITY is nothing
The pure imagination of an innocent soul
EAT ME! Hate me! I'm nothing

But a SWEET SWEAT HEAT

snout white

Cold Pure, sing like a rose
wont vanish due to
a 1st kiss.
wake me lover

he will suffer

Yet I know,
so I'm glad. I'm not the only one.
Got a snake dancing inside me, slide
through and through my laberynth.
I doubt weather they get a complex mind
the entonation is foul
it is all the same
but bigger.

You could die anyday, weeks could fly and no one would even notice.
You could be famous and no one would really care.
Give me my share, I want it,
-She won't listen,
she asks, she claims to care
she wont ever listen, yet
she claims she knows.
Oh no. I don't.

I came here to discover
how to wear it bare
and now that im here
I've realized that the source can only show me how to wear
the best disguise
femme fatale? Naive sweetie?
Buff! Puff!
Hop!

I will slide
side by side
and i will learn
to recreate and
re invent
a new fabel
day by day

La Egoista Ve Atras

Sin error ella hallo la razon ditinta
para asi continuar sintiendose miserable.
Fue mas que celos, aquel territorio valdio de su corazon
empezo a cobrar vida.
Vida que la excluye y anula,
seguramente él ahora sonreia.

Ni una palabra mas. ¡Solo quiero tu mano!
y sniffear tu aroma.

No me interesa tu historia
ni tus logros,
por hoy me basta tu persona.

Ni un beso, ni una caricia
Me rehuso a mirar dentro de tus ojos

Solo quiero tu aroma,
que tu presencia sea callada
pero constante.

Quiero poder creer que solo a mi me amas.

La Fuck Verga

La leccion ha sido formulada.
La advertencia señalada.
El esceptico no comprende.

Todo te vale verga... "Cada instante es importante. Cada elemento, particula es importante." ¿Que? En este instante me duele la reciente gastritis y me vale verga. ¿Donde esta lo importante? Un dolor insoportable y tratable que no me puede importar. Detalles mas idiotas hay y habran. Aquel que me importa en verdad ni se pudo despertar. Ya nada me importa.

Esta es la razon por la que decidi cagarla. Y cuando la cago la cago bien. Y no he parado. Una hilera de vergas he vomitado. Hace rato que estuve asqueada.

La accion es facil, el foul no falla. Y me vale verga.
Voy a parar. Parar de fingir complicidad.
La verdad es que solo te queria usar.
La verdad es que conocia de antemano lo limitados que eran tus servicios.
La idealista en mi prefirio dudar (y jugar).
¡He aqui una verga mas a la hilera!
Admiraos vosotros, a que no tienen una hilera tan variada, tan bonita,
tan verga. Esta es mi fuck verga,
te la presento con sinceras nauseas.
Exaltaos vosotros y vedme reir.
Por que esto me causa carcajadas
y mucho hastio, no te olvides del hastio.

This is fact not fiction

Even when you are naked, there are ways not to expose yourself. My single most craved desire is to wear it bare. I don't intentionally lie with my mouth, I lie with my body, with these unstoppable actions.

Oh well, it all depends on how you wanna look at it. Maybe I don't feel you, but I must be able to feel the moment and most importantly, I feel a crazy desire to feel you. I do wanna be wit you, only not forever.

I can feel a decaying motion in what has barely started. The scene that leaves me frozen has been played again. The infinite woman feeds her time impulsively, it is patience what she lacks. Having the power to be the predator lazily she chooses to be the prey. There wont be a climax in whatever it is they chase.

In the need of comfort she reminds herself 'This soon will come to an end'.
And then she feels guilty 'cuz maybe she is not giving him a chance. Maybe he knows he has no chance, for which he summits himself to this charade, in which we pretend we are having fun. And in moments we are, but that s all. There is nothing meaningful in fun.

So, she feels the guilt burning up. What a waste. What an unfair treatment to something as pure. We shouldn't waste any time. We shouldn't portray what is unreal.

The urge is sincere.
The urge for him
the need for proximity
the urge to learn.
She has chosen.
She has already been broken.

the demented is GOne!

Shut the door, wonder why he doesn't get it. He is a brat with a far too simple mind.
Shut the door, get back home. Exhale.
Gaze at the figure who gave you birth, the depression in her waist,
the fury in her eyes. Fear is all around.

I needed to pour something sour. 'Cuz I don't get it.
The source in the light.
I needed to test your reactions.

Cut the crap, open that door. Tell me what I am here for.

Don't mind this, I'm mindless

Can't you tell I'm dead tired?
No ideas in her head, gone and flushed away - with all those few remains, I've managed myself.
Think of it as depressing maybe even shocking
but I can surely bet: You must feel the same.
Been ages now (just a few years but in my heart time lasts so much more)
Done with the idiotic self absorbed mindless consuming asswholes, oh wait I'm one of them.
If I could puke on you trust me I would,
literally and idealisticly. Really.
But my heart is too kind to take you as a gag, told you I'm egocentric.

Lately I've been told there is a use to all this, the pure way sure could be THE way
I can believe in that. Any case it sure is a pretty lie...
Maybe it's just straight forward propaganda anti drug abuse,
sure I can call it propaganda, it's (in this case) positive brain wash towards a lifestyle
and there could be some political/monetary suit behind it,
of whom I don't know shit of.
Anyway, don't mind this, I don't mind this
what bothers me right now is much more deeper
or at least I suspect it is.

I been tired! I been tired! Heck, I've been tired.
P-L-E-A-S-E, let's make it past tense
cuz I'm done.
Pity, useless responsability, mixed morals
Lack of search.

I need to care,
need to try,
give it a try, at least this once.

What have I got to loose? If it actually means nothing I can always go back to not caring.
The only question is, when is it too soon to quit?

Gonna start with the superficial part in my self,
a healthy core wont soar.
cuz yeah man,
T-I-R-E-D spells it.

Been asking for the sooner dead, guess what? This is it.
Kill my fears
Kill my dependency
Kiss kiss kill kill.

Can I spit this out?

Es hora q reconozcas quien eres tu. Una despistada curiosa.... La constante te acerca a la respuesta. Si te escondes esta hara lo mismo. Prueba desde el lado honesto. Todo es aplicable.

sweet november

She is a fucking lesbian you know? A total dike.
She says that when she is with her, its like being home.

The oddity in the fact layed in the casual manner we pursued eachselfs.
Wonder about the force which caused the attraction, how did you catch my eye?
Without any sure intention but experimentation we layed
soon it wasn't only a play.

Must be deeper than what we can easily sense.
You are my cherub and I'll make sure to cherish
every which part

Still Expecting

Soon it will be November, soon i'll have something to write about.
The time is ending
all this snoozing n loosing
better start juicing!

I thought I had been falling
guess at least I've been learning:
Never to trust those who wont follow a heart. Their own heart.
Its not bad to plan.
Go ahead! Draw a map, I do it daily
just make sure you got the right compass.

wreck what u have n run
he's gotta worry: how full my pocket is?
how much more shit can my body get
the vain vices,
mudane prices
try to drain the pain
again you just feign


I really wanted to fall
feel what it is to be whole
now i gotta crawl
where is Mr. Stahl?

It will ring if you dial

touch + heart

As soon as you spot her you can tell what a dirty little bitch she really is. She may try to cover it, try as she might but there is no use. She's got the stoolie stare.

"Oh well, yeah. I’m sort of a masoquist." Sort of? Whatever, this rattle of hers could be interesting. With her all I can lose is my time and that's quite ok with me. The nodding of my head is her cue; I've decided to play along.

"Don't get me wrong. I don't cut myself."

"You don’t?" Truly I’m puzzled. Why is she telling me this anyway?

"I like some spanky every now and then" She tells me this followed with a grin.

"When it comes to exploring each other’s body I simply can’t wait. I mean, I love falling for IT. For him. When I’m his that’s all I can think of. n I’m eager to show him I’m his.” She smiles batting her eyes once she finishes the sentence.

“What are you saying?” Ok so this bitch is a little wacked. Spanking and love. She couldn’t really think they’ve got something to do.

“I mean I wanna be tagged by him. Love never lasts forever, moments fade. I want his mark forever.”
“I could leave you lovely scars, love.” I grunt, she laughs. “Tell me sweetheart, why are you so keen on this? There are many ways to leave mark. What kind of freak are you?”
Now she looks down “I don’t know” she shrugs “They can only see with their eyes. I can’t find the way to touch a heart.”
“But you love them don’t you?”
“I love you and I want your mark.”

black coffee

Black coffee, she is never in style
washed out nail polish in a hand thats not thin, not chub,not long, not short.
Everything is fed with a fork
in a town across a mile.

Hush, she said. i plead you to stay.
He had done his bags, packed the boxer briefs she never dared to wash.
one sip to his cigarrette, the stink will stay maybe forever
in that room, in that mind, in that heart.

The rooms been emptied, everything torn and thrashed
no ideas in her head, all actions were flushed.
She wont say it but
she feels kind of sorry
for there was no glory
this time her lot
was lost

GYE

Crick Crack- Aqui todo cruje y toda puerta aulla. Duermo en la cama de un pequeño montruo de pelos largos y sonrisa sarcasticafrente a un ventilador q no huye a los minusculos, aquellos q vienen noche tras noche por otra probadita.
Esta llena de puntos rojosy agotamiento, por aca nada me divierte, pero aun deseo quedarme. Deseo comprender como esq uds. viven, ¿Como lo soportan?
Por aqui todo se altera, ese instincto salvaje esta mas y mas presente. NO hay para mas... cero confianza, cero amistad, cero intelecto...
millares y millares de mini vestidis q colores solidos envolviendo todo tipo de pierna, flaca, firme, rchoncha, etc.... ademas de milllares y millares de imitaciones de zapatos vans en los pies de niños, niñas y chicos... todos.
Aca a nadie le falta nada, sin auto no hay como sobrevivir, sn el auto te roban.... Quien te roba si esq a nadie le hace falta?.. .Esas 'otras' gentes son las q t roban. Las q andan con pistolas, esas te la pusieran por el culo y creeme q no lo disfrutarias.

Scratching places you're not supposed to scratch.

lil blue pill

Blue pill,
Can you tell me how he feels?
and whatever it is that he conceals.
You have been inside, in a place i cant ever reach, at least not in the way you did.
You've influenced his breathing, his thinking,
numbed away the excruciating pain he had been feeling,
this and so much more you can do when u are inside him.
Will you make him your slave or just let him toss you away?
Will you introduce him to your girly friends,
allow him to taste you all n enter to that dark place?

It is you who like many others took what i love the most
clouded they're ways into that liberal dilusion
made them think they were astray
when actually they were hanging by your chain.

If there was anytone to envy that would be you
but that too I cant, that too I wont
cuz you wont ever know the difference
wont ever value who has savoured you
you cant feel how his tongue licks, not the way I did.
You wont ever bring the light in him
and that is what Im aiming for.

I cant love a fool who doesnt know what freedom really is
He took you, you worked your magic
He knows how meaningless you really are.
I am flesh n bone, soul n mind
light n dark.
He has been inside me
n i do know how that feels.

Blue pill you have been created just like many others
to do nothing more but make us numb.

Bus Fare

In this story boy never gets to meet the girl he had spotted
She was crossing the street like a child Singing loud fearlessly Ive Got You Under My Skin
she pays her bus fare
and now she becomes hush, transformed with her mask... cuz she has spotted him.
This very well dressed lay down foreign boy, lush, lust.... she thinks 'Yummy.'
She stares for a second time, just to make sure this beautiful figure was real
it definitely is, she has caught him scratching nastily his nouse. So he is human after all!
She pretends to be disgusted, and at the same time pretends to be polite n pretends she didnt see him see her while he was scratching his cute little nouse... They both pretend
but eyes have met, they both know.
They get in the same bus headed to the same station Rio Coca
She stands near the door still hush, still with her mask on
He stands real near her and starts singing a Cat Stevens song to her ear
She bites her lips constraining herself, Oh how she wishes she knew what to say! What to do!
He gives it a second shot, this time he decides to be more obvious
and sings to her ear with the most beautiful raspy manlike voice
the same song she had sang minutes ago...
Oh the way her heart melts! Sexi thoughts come to her mind
Oh how she wishes he would go astray and just touch her in that same bus in that same instant!
how she wishes the world was only theirs including that bus just for a while...
She smiles wide open, thinking he saw her smile she looks the other way n gives him her back.
The bus is so crowded, they are so near
she sighs... (she always sighs!)
He blows air to her neck... OH HOW SHE WISHES THAT SWEET WIND WOULD NEVER END!
bus gets more crowded, people start pushing they're way in n out
boy n girl are separated now....
Oh how she wishes he gets down in the same stop she's gonna get down
oh how she wishes that if it happens she stops being so freaking shy n does something!
So she starts thinking of this she could do,
'if this was a movie I'd wait for him in the way out n say something clever like .... I cant think of anything clever, so I'd say something like "I heard you were singing that Frank Sinatra song"... what language does he speak? Is he from here or from somewhere else? Can I make that line sound clever in my native language? "Te oí cantar esa cancion de Frank Sinatra I Got You Under My Skin..." '
For some reason she didnt think it sounded clever, to her it sounded SO BAD! (the line, his singing took her to that other side of the moon)
They arrive to the last stop.. so they were actually headed to the same direction THANK GOD!
Its time to get off, so she gets of thinking of a smooth way to catch him in the exit n hope he has something clever to say....
but the crowd gets off too n she didnt even see him
She lost her chance, now he is gone n she has to continue her route home...

guess shell always be from the outside of well, almost everything....

tool

She will always be true to her compromise
it's a rat race what she is living
and her goal is the prize.
Yes, she will slither and doom
anything that comes in between.
We are mere tools to entertain her quick wit
there is no use in locking yourself
from her
'cuz the paths have already crossed.
No deviations in strategy.
Of course she doesn't believe (in any)
but there is no use
but to serve whatever purpose.
Her compromise is truth.

the coming of going
deviations overwhelm my brain
want my decisions to be final
my parts dont ever coincide nor collide
heart n mind we*re so far apart
take a chance, make a move
wont you fucking JUMP?
all i really want is to dance
you could lead the way
either way
dont let me hesitate

...n then he was gone with the night lights

in or out

i really dont give a damn if im in or if im out. Out wil always be a place anyway. En realidad no se que quiero hacer.

Prue

they say: always listen to your heart.
but my heart tends to fall for the sickest and craziest
maybe im just used to it... Anyway, I think I should stop. Today Im safe at home, alone. But eventually Im gonna have to share my life, I wish to share my life with somebody, and Ill stop being safe. Share my bed with some crazy asswhole, with some hurting pervert.
I am a prue, walking santity. I am the contradiction of the world Ive decided to surround myself. Ive seen almost nobody is perfect, and those who are stop being it after a while.

I used to be the crazy one now im just this simple
close minded
prue

about feelings, clouds and yummy smoothies

we are all
the biggest pretenders
posing for feelings
trying to understand hows and whys
of things that simply are.
i cant ever trust
no matter how hard i try
we keep on slipping
away.
you say you really love me
i keep on dreaming on the day we can hold hands together forever
living in the highest cloud
smell of extasy, red roses, love making
and i really think, if u can dream it: you can live it. BOOM!
shotguns of silence fill the air
overwhelming and disapointing
...now you say you love her.
n0w i say i cant believe in any of you
but i keep on doing it.
it is a life filled with ups and downs. the highest you are the harder you fall.
laws of nature, laws of the heart. rules... i dont believe in rules
i dont believe in not believing
so im gonna keep on being the biggest fool
who has falled for you.

deeep into my flesh
into the ground
traspass everything thats real
down
today im singing the blues
and everything is mixed
like in a smoothie, frozen n flavorfull
how could u ever get it?

de los temas q me conciernen, no se nada

mi vida en ti

a veces mi vida se convierte en la tuya... casi siempre.
fui a tu cumpleaños,
te consolé,
te acompañe al doctor,
te llame,
siempre te escribo
te quiero
te pregunte que querías hacer.
no veo en verdad cual es el problema con esto.

there is no way

I wanna make up for the things i can't say by writing something beautiful for you. For the first time I wanna write for somebody. And this you aren't anybody.... The only problem, nothing I could ever write can ever be good enough for you. I could write about your eyes or the way you can't stand ice cream but those are not interesting subjects. I guess I haven't found the way to write about good feelings nor the things that make me happy. And you are one. You are gonna have to settle with my good intentions and trust that someday i will find the way to say 'I love you.'

BORED TO THE BONE:seeking for adventure

i think im paranoid and crazy
unethical little being
thats who i am.
bored to the bone.
seeking for somekind of emotion
maybe even kidding myself that i can actaully feel.
little ice princess tryting to brake the ice.
help me brake the ice
help me look forward for tomorrow
feel quite a little bit eager for the present
laugh out loud
tell me everything thats on ur mind
tell me nasty things until i cry
tell me how much u love and why
let me feel alive
help me brake my shell
i tend to do things just for a test
see what happens if ...
curiosity killed the cat. luckily im no cat
no ones cat
no ones nobody
i dont even own me
my instinct doesnt own me
my reasoning doesnt own me
there are no owners
there is no destiny
there is no nothng
theres just me and you
and everybody else
everybody else who is often more boring than me
more fake
more plastic
cooler
they are always cooler and more lost
im i judgemental? maybe so

i can see you through the mirror

two different realities
almost the same exact feelings
my dear, we're expiriencing a sort of grief
we're sad and think we're doing bad for all the right reasons