from the very first day,

you took my breath away,

you made me smile,

and laugh,

in your very own style.

i write not just one paragraph,

for the one that awakens indescribable beauty,

you are a cutie.

time walks only in one direction,

we are but a section,

a burning cigar,

so, lets enjoy what life has to give,

even if we are what we are,

lets be alive and just live.

to be together,

even if distant,

to be close,

even in absence,

and,

to be poetic,

in the way we love and care.

    Love doesn't burn away. i believe the only way to escape time is the ability to love someone, truly. real love sets us free from what we perceive time to be. it doesn't matter if I live or if I die. I know I will achieve eternity by investing all I am in to this feeling.

     What I deem to be called love is not what most do. At least, that is how I feel. There are many ways to express our love towards someone but the emotion and feeling shares no other meaning than to be eternal. We were made from love so... what other way would be more fitting to die than to die from love. Seek a type of love that makes you want to go all the way for it.

    I know my love for her will echo through the ages like a good song or a good story. In a way, I hoped what i felt would burn away but it didn't and that is when I knew I loved her. I love her with all I am, with all I ever will be and with all the things I will and won't do. 

    I've always believed I too would find a soulmate. And, as God as my witness, I vow to be patient. Even if she does not see it. Even if she does not yet feel it, I know, someday, she will. She was the answers to the prayers I have always kept inside but was too afraid to say out loud. In a way, she gave me a voice. In many ways, she changed me.  

quero que me procures,

quero que me queiras,

anseio um momento que pode nem acontecer,

desperto sem despertador,

desperto com a dor,

de perder alguém que já se perdeu.

vejo nitidamente a nebula que me circunda,

que me cega e afunda,

num pensamento cíclico,

viciante, delirante,

opressor e redundante.

se no escuro vejo melhor,

prefiro ir para o claro,

para o brilhante e cintilante,

de forma a nem ver nada,

nem mesmo tu,

fantasma que me atormentas.

lanças, sobre mim,

uma escuridão tamanha,

grande ao ponto de tapar a minha sombra.

agitas a água que reflete a minha face,

turva e desfigurada,

fazes, de mim, marionete,

feita para ser manipulada,

por ti apenas.

 

odeio-te quando te amo. odeio-te. não por acordar a meio da noite preocupado contigo nem mesmo por escolheres virar-me as costas... por ti, engulo sapos,  dou tiros nos pés, caminho pelas chamas e movo montanhas.



 amar alguém, ou algo, faz com que ponhamos de parte o que queremos. por vezes, procuro-me nos teus poemas. procuro-me no que fazes. embora procure, por mim, não me encontro.

roubaste-me a essência. entraste na minha vida como se fosses o primeiro dia, de primavera, e saíste dela como quando a geada nos apanha desprevenidos num dia de outono ameno. havia guardado o meu coração dentro de um cofre envolvido em espinhos. demoliste as paredes da minha mansão de forma natural e inconsciente.

odeio-te pelas noites que dormimos longe, mas juntos. foste, para mim, uma companheira. embora fria a tua partida tenha sido, sinto dentro de mim um calor que me sufoca. sinto raiva de ti por teres escolhido abandonar-me. fizeste de mim cão sem pelo à deriva pelas ruas nojentas de Portimão, faminto, indesejado, com uma comichão que me é impossível coçar. 

no fim, percebo que não te odeio. odeio-me pois não fui bom o suficiente. odeio-me por me permitir amar e por me deixar ser roubado.

na minha companhia encontro a solidão que sempre tentei evitar.

estar só. somente eu e o pensamento...

é assustador.

navego a nado,

pelo oceano que chamo de pensamento,

sem qualquer noção de onde estou.

se ousasse desejar algo,

não desejaria por uma bússola,

por um astrolábio,

nem mesmo por uma caravela.

se pudesse ter qualquer desejo,

escolheria ser como fita-cola,

ter a capacidade de remediar situações,

ou de juntar peças partidas, uma à outra. 

everything changed on the day I realized what it meant to lose someone whom I cherished more than my own happiness. in me lives a certain uncertainty regarding wanting something i don't want. to hold someone not with your hands but with your soul even if it ends up killing you. even if it ends up making you someone else. i realized way too late the meaning behind her forfeit of life and her disappointment in me. although i left i have always been there just like when you look for the pair of glasses that you lost and wear on top of your head. to see the world not with your eyes but with the lenses of depression is the same as to lose sight. it is a bitter feeling to have lost someone i would have died for. sometimes i cry when i am reminded of her face and her voice.

I loved her and yet I choose to leave.

Sometimes, to truly love someone,

you must let them go.

At times, I can smell her scent,

even while never meeting her,

I can touch her fingertips, with my own,

although I was never present.

My smile, fake and bitter,

carries a certain honesty,

somehow.

I smile because I did the right thing,

and, if sweetness could be achieved,

it would only happen once I had kissed her.

I go to bed, every day,

I write, every night,

always with her in mind.

She trusted in me,

of that I am sure,

but, I let her down.

Not by missing the five AM call,

or, even, by not realizing in time.

I abandoned her.

Even if temporarily.

Even if by impulsivity.

I broke the trust,

she placed on me,

effortlessly and naturally. 

Even if I wanted to,

I have fucked up once to many times.

I walk down the stairway,

has my feet burn from the temperature,

of the charcoal and sulfur.

I accept the faith I carved,

in my arms and thighs.

I shall atone and repent,

in hell,

for eternity.

I know that even if she hates me,

I will still love her,

and, has the whip lashes on my back,

I will still lover her.

I am flawed,

tainted,

and a monster.