At The End Of The DayAt the end of the day
I want to be the one who holds you,
the one who soothes your pain
and appeases your sadness.
At the end of the day
I want to be the one who holds your hand
and entwines your fingers to mine
At the end of the day
I want you to find in my eyes
serenity and peace.
I want to be your refuge,
At the end of the day
I want to be the one who kisses you tenderly
and dries your tears,
I want to be your consolation.
At the end of the day
I want you to look for me and I want you to find me,
I will be there with open arms
to caress you softly.
At the end of the day
I want you to feel my body next to yours
and sharing passion.
I want to be your intimacy
I want to be the one to indulge you in everything,
I want you to feel I am willing to give all for you,
even my tears ...
At the end of the day
I want you to know that without you I can not live,
and to be apart hurts badly
but it brings us close.
At the end of the day
I want you
My Lasting MemoriesThere are many and I will write them as they come to my mind.
Stepping on British soil next to John, very much in love.
Strolling and discovering his town hand in hand , beautiful Shrewsbury,
birthplace of Charles Darwin.
Walking to corners that he had never stopped to look before
and cycling among the groves of cedars, oaks, limes and weeping willows.
Walking barefooted on the English turf in the Quarry,
those 29 acres of green where originally
the stone was obtained to build houses.
Dazzled by the striking colour of flowers everywhere
the delicately manicured gardens of the Dingle.
And the Severn River ... the longest river in Great Britain,
historic bridges, arches, iron,
buildings and stories of war and depression
and flourish and progress.
The boat ride from Victoria Quay on the ferry Sabrina,
a mermaid who drowned in the river, according to the myth.
And the ducks and swans.
The car rides through the English countryside
towards Newport and Hereford and Worcester
to meet daughters
Look" And you, who is going to look at you! "
And someone looked at me,
someone saw me from afar .
Perhaps in a picture of me,
he contemplated my bare soul ,
and in need of love.
Maybe he peeked through my eyes
and he was caught
Perhaps he let himself be entangled in my hair
and seduced by my words.
" And you, who is going to look at you! "
That phrase I can not forget.
And someone looked at me.
The first time he saw me
it was from a distance.
Then there was a call
and my voice captivated him .
And he came.
He travelled many miles
to take a better look at me ...
And it was then
he could not stop looking at me,
and he came back,
and he always returns.
And he looks at me with eyes of the one that looks beyond ...
and sees perfection in the imperfection,
beauty and sensitivity,
virtues over defects.
At some point I was led to believe
no one could look at me as a woman ...
He who looks at me now,
not only sees me as a woman.
He imagines a princess, a doll,
a being of light,
25th January 2014I have turned 48.
I look back
and I see that I've had a good life
and now I feel
The difficulties were overcome ,
and I moved on .
And here I am now
I always had confidence in myself
I always knew what I wanted to do
I always followed my intuition,
And if ever there were tears
I erased them with new happiness .
At some point I was on the edge of an abyss
and had to decide
And I flew .
And from above I saw how darkness dissipated ,
and I saw that there were still flowers in my green fields .
and that there was a sun and a new moon
and four beautiful stars that guided me ...
and four beautiful clouds which sheltered me ...
and four beautiful melodies that lulled me ...
I found a great heart that opened its doors to me
and two strong arms that wanted to take care of me.
I am 48
but I do not feel old,
I feel reborn.
I'm living life
with a new intensity,
and the smile
does want not to leave my face!
25 de enero 2014.
He cumplido 48 años.
Miro hacia atrás
y veo que he tenido una buena vida
y ahora me siento
Las dificultades fueron superadas,
y seguí adelante.
Y aquí estoy ahora
Siempre tuve confianza en mi misma
siempre supe lo que quería hacer
siempre hice lo que me dictó mi intuición,
Y si hubo lágrimas alguna vez
las borré con felicidades nuevas.
En algún momento estuve al borde de un abismo
y tuve que decidir
Y desde lo alto ví como la oscuridad se disipaba,
y ví que aún había flores en los verdes campos.
y había un sol y una luna nueva
y cuatro hermosas estrellas que me guiaban...
y cuatro hermosas nubes que me cobijaban...
y cuatro hermosas melodías que me arrullaban...
Encontré un gran corazón que me abría sus puertas
y dos fuertes brazos que querían cuidarme.
Cumplo 48 años
CicatrizLa cicatriz en tu frente es
la profunda marca de nuestro amor profundo.
Cuando te miro
recuerdo que vos estás aquí por mí,
que has viajado miles de kilómetros
para estar conmigo.
Veo en tu cara
los muchos momentos de alegría que compartimos,
la manera en que descubrimos el amor de nuevo,
la diversión que hemos tenido,
y las lágrimas que derramamos cada vez que tenemos que separarnos
El corte en tu piel
por momentos corta mi corazón
y sangra mi culpa.
El golpe en tu cabeza
todavía me estremece por dentro.
Cada uno de los muchos puntos que tuviste
también traspasaron mi piel.
y recuerdo aquellas primeras noches a tu lado en el hospital,
cuidandote como una madre cuida a su niño enfermo
y llorando como lo hace una madre
cuando ve a su hijo sufrir.
Esta herida que que lastimó tu cuerpo...
en un momento pensé que podías estar muriendo, ,
siempre va a sangrar dentro mio
ScarredThe scar on your forehead is
the deep mark of our deep love.
I see you
and I am reminded that
you are here because of me,
that you travelled thousands of miles
to be with me.
I see on your face
the many moments of joy we shared,
the way we discovered love again,
the fun we have had all this time
and the tears we shed every time we have to part.
The cut on your skin
at times cuts through my heart
and my guilt bleeds.
Each of the twenty something stitches you had
pierced me sharply.
The blow on your head
still shakes inside me.
I see you
and I remember those nights by your side in hospital
watching over you
as a mother watches over a sick child,
crying as a mother cries
when she sees her child suffer.
And the many nights now when I try to stay awake
to be with you when you wake up out of discomfort and pain.
That wound that hurt your body
will always bleed inside me
will always be a reminder of that test of life.
Now I see you,
and it is all healing,
There is a before and after
and our l
Your FallI saw you fall,
in slow motion.
It was an instant ,
I wanted to help you but I could not ...
And I saw you fall and hit
and hurt yourself.
I still see you when I close my eyes ...
Now I know in an instant
happiness is tinged with red,
with despair .
I still see you in my arms, ,
your head in my hands
and I hear my own screams ...
"This can not be happening, "
but it was happening.
And I had to have the courage to face it
and the strength to help you
I talked to you,
I said your name
and you looked at me ...
I asked you not to leave me,
I asked you to stay with me .
And I shouted so hard,
from my heart, with my soul, no tears,
crying would have torn me apart.
I thought we were alone,
I thought it was the end. .
I was very afraid .
Then help arrived ,
and they rescued you and they supported me .
But then there was a long wait of uncertainty. ,
I needed to know if you were alive ...
I needed to see you, to touch you.
And I cried on shoulders unknown
And I thought what I'd d
On losing a friend(it did not end in tears.)
I could give you armfuls of oceans, great
mountain ranges wrapped in silver bows,
a coral reef gleaming like a sapphire chain
but you will always ask for a dormant volcano
and a star you can hold in your palm.
And I have tried to be that star, have tried to
combust bright enough, shrink small enough
but it is never enough for you. You kiss my
mouth with those carmine lips and swallow my
heartbeat with your gentle laugh and I glow
I glow and you go you go you go on stringing
me along a trail of crumbs, making me forget
that I am starving myself for your table scraps.
I could press the slats of pre-dawn light into your
answering machine, could fold dust columns that
fall between venetian archways into your bedsheets,
could hang the lost jewels of jaguar fangs clattering
above your dreamcatcher and you would only ask for
a dormant volcano and a brittle sea-salt glass wave.
And I have tried to capture the tides and I have tried
to blow glass but my hands are clum
The GardeniasI told you I had wildflowers growing in my veins
and you thought it was quaint,
so when I took shears to my jugular -
you wouldn’t help me cut them out.
You thought I’d be opheliac
if they bloomed, splashing white
into my already paling wrists.
Maybe you thought the perfume would purify me
and being a tragic heroine
would be better than just being tragic.
Their roots choked out my heart and
to my blood
as I died,
drowning in the after-effects of Pretty,
all I could hear
was you telling me that you loved
that I had Gardenias in my eyes.
JudgmentCapricious, erratic creatures,
You observe the likeness of unknown features,
Condemning, curving your mouth with disdain
For the decorum of oneself shall obey your malicious reign.
The abomination you painted in your narrow mind,
Was no more than an eccentric brother yet to find
Utter compliance you seek,
Yet of vain dejection you only reek.
The enmity that guides your every line
Is but poison you gulped instead of light so divine.
Depart from the ignorance that compels you,
Underneath the deception lies all that is true.
DarknessThe disease came in the form of quiet, loving destruction.
It pulled me out to sea,
Waves crashing in on me from all directions.
It planted lilies in my throat.
Until I choked on
Roses and chrysanthemums.
It made my mind my own personal head stone.
Nothing but polluted words
The flowers made it sound so playful and innocent when I said,
'I am better off dead.'
You rage wars.
Tugging at the skin underneath my eyes.
Of a once friendly stranger's goodbyes.
Quiet and loving.
You made me fall in love with the velvet of your darkness.
The way you cloaked yourself around me.
You gave me the piercing control of a knife.
'Death isn't a disease. It is a solution.'
A solution to the dark abyss.
Nags at the back of my skull.
It makes my eyes dull.
The darkness loved my light.
It loved it so much,
It was a parasite.
It stole my sun.
Now I am just a super nova
Collapsing in on itself,
Until I, myself, become the black hole.
A Letter to My Best FriendA letter to my best friend, for when he is feeling badly
When your sunny skies turn to thunder clouds.
When you can't hear your own thoughts
Over rumbling drum rolls of thunder.
I will be the umbrella to protect you
From the freezing rain.
I'd set my bones aflame
Watch them spark and burn.
I'd turn my soul into a Bon fire
Just to keep you warm.
I'd catch fire flies like stars.
I would keep them in a jar
And give them to you.
Because you light up the dark of the night sky.
When I am feeling blue
You are the one that helps me get through
The murk of my lonely thoughts.
And sometimes, I don't feel like you see yourself clearly.
I wish you could see you
The way I do.
I see you in the stars
You talk about them so fondly.
Every constellation reminds me of you.
I wonder if you are made of cosmos.
Such chaotic, pure energy,
I see you in the rain.
You are cold
I'd dance to the music of your soft,
Pitter- patter melody.
I see you in the air I breathe.
Because you are the thing
Fairy Tale GirlFairy tale little girl.
She wears a crown upon her head,
And befriends the monsters under her bed.
She sings songs to birds.
But no one ever heard
Her cries when the castle walls came tumbling down.
Real world little girl.
She weaves herself a fantasy inside her mind.
Hoping to find
The same peace from when she was young.
And she's like water colors.
So soft, and easily washed away.
She is the soft blues in the morning of a new day.
I found her hiding within her tower.
Far above the real world below.
She is so broken but never lets it show,
So desperate for some fairy tale ending.
She asked me quietly one day,
'Do you think the world will ever be like my story books?'
I thought for a moment before replying,
'In order to survive there are some bad things you have to overlook.'
'The world is grey.'
I heard her say one day.
As if accepting the odd mixture of good and bad.
Her voice sounded happy and sad,
All at once.
As she ripped away the last page
In her story book.
Your feelings are validI once read
that a teaspoon of matter
from a black hole
can weigh thousands of tons
so think about that
when someone tells you
your problem is no big deal
it may not look
like you have the weight of the world
upon your shoulders
but it sure can feel like it.
The Rogue FactorRise, fall, get up, stumble and run
it's getting harder to catch a breath
in this cloud of scorching lies you've shoved me in.
Stop right there, I am not following you again
you, the one who held a scythe to my throat,
had only brought me closer to a death I didn't cry for.
It's a price I've paid for having faith in
you, the one with blooming roses
and stinging, poisonous thorns.
Whose dreams was I chasing?
Were they yours, mine or
were they the illusions of a distant fall?
Heaven and Hell crossed at your feet
but you took the wrong turn and blindly led the way,
straight into a fire that welcomed me with open arms.
Doubt someone like you can atone,
you, the one with a habit of tearing souls.
Yet here I stand, and fight
against you, once and for all.
I grew tired of letting you take control.
I found a strength in a goal you can't claim,
my life and my work are no longer yours.
Hope shines bright you monster,
I'm not going to be a victim,
I'm not holdi
Eighteen Years OldTwenty years old, and unhappy with the world.
Twenty years old and threatening teenage girls.
Twenty years old and unsure of who you are.
Twenty years old and hiding behind keys
and a space bar.
At twenty years old, your anger gets the best of you,
at twenty years old, I'd hate to be you.
At eighteen years old, I feel sorry for you,
despite the amount of agony you've put me
Because the one who is the giver of your life
criticizes your appearance and your size.
Despite talking, and the gawking,
and all in between,
I know you're just a poor man suffering.
But you're twenty years old, and you should
You're twenty years old,
and you'll never understand this letter.
Fifteen years old, with the mind of a toddler.
Fifteen years old, and though I'm writing this,
I shouldn't even bother.
Fifteen years old, and you're already a professional stalker,
you're toxic, your disgusting, and a suicide blogger.
Fifteen years old, and life is a game, you can ruin people,
play with pe