the blood it rivers
the blood it writes me down
every second of the day
I will always think of you
you crept inside like a warm decease
you never let me – be
me
sheets were always sweaty between us
I mean it in a metaphorical way
sometimes you’d demand me
certain things you liked me to say
good girl never fit my bill
you used to tell me how to make it better for you
that’s the kind of shit that sent my body thrills
heaven was a vision
I dreamt of 40 times
nothing sufficed
the life or thirst
I rendered.
sitting in front of a familiar door
and feeling nothing
it’s interesting
because I used to feel
-feel it every day
hey babe
I’ll be out –
opening doors for myself
and finding new beauty
to be grateful for
I’m on an island
AND EVERYTHING I’m WRITING
IS ANOTHER TEAR OF SILENCE
who rides down
the objective is to continue
to look back and discover
that I have been many people
in one life
to understand that change
is possible
Spanish version: cambio es posible
el objetivo es continuar
mirar atrás y descubrir
que he sido mucha gente
en una vida
para entender que el cambio
es posible
somehow we’re carried along in and out of situations
in different places between multiple characters of things and people.
all along we are left imprints and leave imprints —
know answers or know nothing.
old doors a ruin
where did your soul
walk to
dresses drying
in the lawn
feeling
and it feels good
when the season of the air
changes
with the season of my life
feeling beautiful
there was a faint knock on the bedroom door that crept up the wall, inside my ears, and into my dream.
the knock raddled the door making noises and it felt so real,
with the presence of you screaming at me in my dream.
again, the knock hit rising louder and my head turned the pillow
i suddenly woke up and opened my eyes, wide
looking at the white space above my body.
i thought i heard you there,
i thought i heard noises.
write something real i told myself
write something people understand
something they can relate to
but is my rhythm not real
is being misunderstood not the realest i could get
to being human, to being me
relation is chosen
is it not?
AZUL LETRA 