I am

“I’m no angel 

I’m not sorry for letting you down 

I’m sorry for letting me down”

It is new year’s 

I’m not happy for my past

I’m happy for tomorrow 

I know who I am

I’m not your marionette 

I’m a free spirit 

I’m a bird

And I’m gonna fly

Searching the skies

For where happiness may rest

Dead well

Vague smiles

Lies written on glossy lips,

The old wine tastes the same,

like water from a dead well


and salty

If all to a man is his cravings,

an empty glass and broken pipe,

then castles befall queens,

whose laces fall loose on their flat chests

But not wits

Beds pleasure hearts,

and poems baffle the mind 

She is more than a sexy lingerie 

He craves belonging,

to another soul

Hurts to love 

​Growing up I wished that death became madane

and yet, 

every face I have known,

the lines that make up its perfections,

the smiles,

the sadness

the dark teary eyes

lines of senility

Stories told to the grey skies,

around the temples of my old man

I just want more

to see more

to laugh more

to love more

Forever maybe,

but a giggle 

Because It hurts to laugh

it hurts to love

and it hurts to see


like a dying flame

the ashes of my childhood fantasies

to embrace the reality of my broken heart


My hands are heavy with chains 

These fingers twist,

no more 

I send blunk letters to my lover

my mother

Was it for the heart? 

Or it’s ego? 

I am lost without the applause of the blurry faces 

that watched

Merry smiles and empty words

Listening to the streets,

whispers of my name

Now a cold silence 

Hiding within the narrow streets

My name to the ground

Beneath heavy pounds of a thousand feet 

Not even the rats 

Or the bats

Chatter my name


The baggage of a fallen heart

Lies to myself,

because I want to
No shame for the sun

Behind lucid clouds

Let it shine,

For you
For what is seen behind a glass

The difference inside the curtains 

The truth of our souls to the light

The curves and the hard rocks

Flesh worn on feeble bones

Even the wool isn’t warm

For the winter
But a lover’s breath

Behind the ear,

Down the neck
The dance of two fingers,

caressing a prickly stem

Of a blood rose
Because you love how it hurts

To fight with him

And cry for her
Because you ruin her make up 

And call her pretty 

Because you care for him

Some tears are worth falling

For all the lies I make for you

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: