Spaceship

Full moon nights  Frozen days Beautiful  Broken hearts

Te extraño 😔 cómo si mañana se fuera a terminar el mundo. Extraño tu mirada y tu cabello y tu piel clara.  Extraño tu mal humor y tu interminable risa. Extraño tus locuras y que te sientas dueña del mundo. Extraño tu cara dormida en las mañanas  y extraño más tener que ser así para no extrañar  

La pregunta provocadora de dos días, una noche para encontrar la respuesta.. Deberías salir conmigo tanto como deberías ser magia, como tú sonrisa debería iluminar mis mañanas, tanto como tus ojos me muestren la claridad de tu alma y tanto como tú figura desate infiernos y paraísos en esas caderas... en resumen deberías salir por la magia, las sonrisas de las mañanas, la claridad en el alma y los infiernos y paraísos...  Y tus caderas, sobre todo por lo que vive en tus caderas.

Hate me more!  And hate me more and more! If that makes you feel better, it’s fine.  Hate me more if you are afraid of being recognised hate me more!  Hate me more if I say something not appropriate  if I don’t see the light in your light if I question something I don’t understand,  hate me more if what I think is making you better or not! Be more intense! It’s a challenge!  Do your best hate, the one most intense,  the one that shakes the earth.  Hate me all!!! Hate me more if I want your happiness,  if I believe in your example.  Hate me more if I admire your perseverance, hate me more if I am proud of you.  Hate me if after that you can see who’s admiring you,  hate me a lot more if that puts you in a place you deserve because of your effort. Not because you are pretty,  not because you are sweet,  not because of your antipathy.  Hate me more if I see something more on you. Hate me more if I believe in your heart, hate me if I think in your mind,  hate me if that hate is built on yo

Y tus ojos cerrados, Y tu cabello negro. Y tu vientre en mis manos, Y en mis manos también tu cabello negro Y ese olor a perfume, Impregnado en tus besos. Tu sonrisa desviada, Y justo detrás tu cabello negro. Y tu espalda arqueada, Buscando mis ojos. Y tus botas aún puestas, Del color de tu cabello negro. Y tu pose desnuda, Y el contraste perfecto  Y tus pechos redondos, Cubiertos con tu cabello negro Y ese brillo en tus labios, Y el sudor en tu frente. Y esos ojos tan claros, Iluminando tu cabello negro. El olor de tu cuerpo, Y tu piel delicada,  Sonrojada y sudorosa. Acompañada de tu cabello negro. Y tus caderas conmigo, Y tu buscando mis manos, Y ese hueco en tus hombros, Llenado por tu cabello negro. Tu ansiedad amarrada, Como amarrado tu cabello negro. Y tu locura desbordada, Alborotado tu cabello negro. Y ese gesto suplicante  Cuando te tengo conmigo.  Y ese grito tan hueco Cuando sé que eres mí

Ain’t you tired of lying? Of living 3 lives Of hiding your memories  Of not being authentic  Ain’t you tired of hiding? Of running away  Of changing the details  Of moving forward with no back  Ain’t you tired of erasing? Of cleaning up your scarfs Of hiding them in make up Of building the fallacy of life Ain’t you tired of not being authentic? Or did you forget what’s real in yours? 

Hold my hand... with your hand. Now you’re tied. Look at me with those eyes, feel my kiss on your neck. Say my name while you’re tied. Let me travel through your body, let me feel each part of you, and then keep tied. It’s incredible how much I wanted this before, how much I needed that.  Moan or cry, deep inside, and then you’re tied. Feel my body, move around. You keep tied. Break into pieces, shake and hold, you keep tied. Your hands together, you ask for more, you want to be tied... Feel released, hold me through, and you keep tied. 

They call you angel, without knowing the best version of you is beyond the shades. In the comfortable darkness of yourself. They think about you in heaven, but your favourite times are the hell you make for everyone else. Just to be familiar with how it always was. They make you of poetry besides the dirty words you like to hear in your ear. They build your beauty in something you cannot rely on, not even in the worst lies. Not when you feel not even your face has some symmetry. They’re enlightened about your perfection, without knowing it’s precisely your greatest fear, your most horrible weakness. They thought you were strong when your most significant times are made of paper, wet trashed paper. They think about you like you were someone else, like the person you always wanted to be. Like the one you are still afraid to lose 

Is all we do the quest to find what we didn’t have? To get what we found important. We may need to find the beauty because no one saw it in us or because we couldn’t find in ourselves. We sing because we don’t want silence anymore, we dance because we should remain quiet, we run because we were asked to keep it slow. We might need to speak in 9 languages because no one listened to us. We might eat in excess to never feel that hunger again. We are trying to predict the future to erase the past. Maybe we cannot love because we were loved enough or we loved so much to never feel that loneliness again. Are we built for contrary that we lived? We are made of needs and scarcity, we might build ourselves to change that

Try it one more time Try when it is harder Try when you’re broken  Try better just one more time  Try it one more day In your darkest times try it In your deepest moments just try Try when you don’t have more than the next dawn of tomorrow  Try even you don’t see the light  The light comes trying  Try even without purpose  The best way to find it is trying  Try when you feel failing  It’s always easier to find the victims of not trying  Try when there’s no way  Because you might have found your way while trying  In any case, when you’re tired and broken  When you failed with the unfortunate and cruel destiny  You have given all your faith in trying  And the souls are fuelled by the oil of one more time 

Why to miss? You asked utterly sure of your statement. Everyone is completely independent. Why someone would miss another person? You just have to not remember the time together, that way of laughing or the perfume of her hair. Why missing someone if there are a thousand of people who can exactly kiss the same way, who would feel with the same soul, who’s perfectly capable of being someone else copy. Why you would like to miss something that is unique to a person. Why miss something in the eyes, the sunshine in her smile, or the long and peaceful silence you have after talking between yourselves with a look. The world is full of uniqueness, it has plenty of eyes, smiles and silence...  And there’s the key, we miss people because the world is full of silence...