There's nothing here for you

I sit here, with a blank paper,

no words, no ideas.

I sit here, but I am long gone.

My fingers tap the wooden table, they play a song.

Away, far far away my mind is hidden, lost.

My ears listen the rain shouting through the window.

My eyes watch thousands of water drops falling from the sky like dead birds,

fast and cold.

And I sit there, in a rather empty room, alone,

with a blank paper,

with no words, no ideas.

A dream

I don’t exist.

I am not human, I am not a being.

My life isn't real.

I am nothing but a train of thoughts.

My past is a movie. My future nonexistent. I feel nothing. I am empty.

My mind is muddy, blurred, detached.

I do not exist.

I, me, can’t feel a thing. I process fictional lifes, feelings that are not mine. I borrow emotions so I don’t need to have my own.

I am not real. How could I be?

I am a hollow vessel, sometimes filled by outlander souls.

I do not exist.
I am not real.
How could I be?

Injurias

Palpita en mi pecho la sátira sobre la cual
han escrito grandes maestros.

Se ríe de la luna
quien solo conoce el sol.

En mi puño cerrado guardaba una promesa
que huyó apresurada,
asustada por dedos ajenos.

Maldigo el anhelo que me agita por dentro.
Maldigo y reniego lo que siento.
Maldigo mis ojos por haber sido tan indiscretos.
Maldigo mis labios por desear lo que no debo.
Maldigo mi piel por ansiar la pólvora y el fuego.
Maldigo mi corazón,
maldigo mi cuerpo.



  Si bien me ahogo por el resentimiento,
lo hago porque me es imposible
desertar mi afecto.