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VIVIR SIN CORAZON
Déjame robar de tu vida un poco de cielo
sentir en mi rostro los rayos de sol ardiendo
quemando mi piel y marcándome a fuego
encontrar el camino y cumplir mis deseos
cambiar el destino alcanzando mis sueños
besar a la vida y romper sortilegios
heridas mortales en mi Alma y mi cuerpo
agoniza el amor cuando mata el silencio
llora el dolor sangrándome por dentro
NO SIENTO EL CORAZÓN...
Moribundo y prisionero yace en tu pecho.
INERTE SOBRE LA CAMA
Viendo escapar los días y las horas feriadas
yace consciente pero inerte sobre su cama
un trozo de techo ocupa su lánguida mirada
la luz cegadora inundando sus ojos y la fría sala
rompiendo el silencio el recuerdo de vagas palabras
que se anudan como una soga ahogando su garganta
olvidó lo que es vivir pero guarda la esperanza
y sueña con ser feliz, sanar las heridas y el Alma.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
These Faded KeysOf all the keys I click
As we speak each day,
It's the back arrow
That's faded most
These white letters
Would surely tell you,
I reply to everything -
But the key reading "enter"
Will be the one to explain
Why it still looks new
I want you to know
Just how much I care,
But I don't want to be close
Out of the fear of losing you
But please remember:
I dedicate these words to you,
Sharing them to the world
Rather than clicking away
At the faded key ~
Echoes we are like
in the middle
but not quite
what we truly
DethronedI have created Eden, through the strokes of my pen,
But it was made of promises, and angels
That were too fragile to hold the weight of our sins.
You were my goddess, on a throne made of dreams.
Which you were probably
They didn't glimmer and shine
like the diamonds decorating your rings.
They were the hopes of a man
So madly in love, but you poured poison into his heart
And so he rotted, each time you gifted him with a kiss.
I'm all alone now.Where did you go?
It's so lonely and cold.
We used to be so close.
We talked every day.
Why have you gone?
We were so close.
Did I miss a fallout?
Was it something I did?
Remember me at all?
Remember all the fun we had together?
Remember the laughs we shared?
Remember the games we played?
We were always there for eachother,
but you never come by anymore.
It's lonely here.
I miss you.
What happened to us?
We used to be such close friends.
I miss you all,
and everything we did.
GOTAS DE LUNA
Gotas de luna que llueven sobre mojado
con acedo sabor de un amor helado
sajada mi piel en su frío abrazo
escarcha en mi lecho quemando mis labios
gélidos sus besos en mi cuerpo cansado
hierve la sangre a compás de su engaño
mienten sus ojos cuando me hablan sus manos
roto el silencio me envuelve el embauco
siento en mis carnes impávidos sus brazos
Gotas de luna que mueren en mi regazo
llenándome el Alma de dulce y amargo
rosas negras augurio de mal presagio
locura de amor que agoniza al ocaso
hunde el camino arrasando a mi paso
desfallezco a sus pies herida en el costado
muñeca de trapo muriendo en sus manos
desgarrador sentimiento sangrando en su abrazo
siento dolor, quebró este corazón en mil pedazos.
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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