At that moment, she could see the good in him. A shadow of his formal self perhaps. Nonetheless, she did the only thing that made sense to her at the time.

"I will not leave you. Not this time."

"Look in to my eyes, Silvar. Through my eyes you shall see the truth you so desperately try to burry."

Their chemistry, their past alongside her words awakened something in him, has when the sun rises at dawn, bringing light and clarity, he could see clearly since a long time.

"Eze, is that really you?";

His eyes turned green but only for a brief moment. As soon as it all started it all ended. He started grabbing his head, going in circles and pulling his own hair out. In a way, he wanted to be able to pull his real self back. Even thou he tried, he failed. 

"If you stay, you shall die!" - said Silvar has he used his powers to push Eze away. 

Now, with her back against a wall, her instincts kicked in. 

What started as a battle of power now turned in to a battle of wills. Both of them were scarred, tainted and troubled individuals. Different in their own ways yet united and similar in their struggles.

It is sad when love cannot be enough. It's a reality one must accept. One must learn how to live with it. They pushed each other with all their mental might. The walls that touched their backs were hard and strong. No matter how sturdy one's walls might be, sometimes someone comes along who is able to find ways of going around them. Not by force or strength. Through mutual trust only could they ever heal. Only by facing their fears head on would they ever be able to look forward.

As they pushed, the walls broke. Half conscious they ended up reaching to each other. As if seeking a hand or a touch. Physically separated. No matter. First the touch of a single finger followed by the craving to feel each other. As their hands grabbed on to teach other, they became one.

Words Unspoken

 

    What happens when a child is deprived of its innocence? When laughter and joy seem to be but a concept created for those to be lucky enough to experience them we, the ones whose shadow became one with our sense of self, can't feel anything other than hopelessness. To be one who is no one. To be lost while never had experienced a sense of belonging. The world of men was created for those who care not for others but for themselves.

    It is contradictory yet, somehow, romantic the way one can feel love for another while being absent of ever feeling love itself. It is like we are plants whom are stuck, in a cycle of eternal servitude, to those who only want or like us for the oxygen we grant. No one dares to try to understand the other. It sometimes feels has if we re unable to truly empathise for someone else. We want love and yet when faced with how love feels we get scared and push it away or run from it. 

    It is hilariously unfunny how people only care once you die. When hope leaves our body so does life. To struggle, to crawl and to hunger are all things that became part of me. No matter how much we try to stop the waves from clashing at the shores we never succeed. It is only when we can't do anything that we try to do something. Humanity, humans and society are abominations of nature. We were born from it but soon became the hunter prying on life as when a lion feasts on a carcase. 

                

    While looking at death, and it's implications, I can't stop thinking about how appealing to be touched by it in a way only I could dream. I know to die is not to dream. To die is to become one with the void. It is said if you stare long enough in to the abyss that the abyss stares back at you. I have been intentionally staring in to it for many years now but with no avail. Perhaps not even the void deems me worthy of its embrace.

                            

   

     

 

to sing, not with the voice,

a song sang from the soul,

to feel affection,

or, perhaps,

to seek a gentle touch.

a smile,

shy yet heartfelt,

causes my heart to fumble,

to skip a beat,

and,

is the reason my hope was rekindled.

to be someone,

someone like you,

a diamond in the rough,

unpolished,

yet... so beautiful and divine.

realistic,

a character I always dreamed about,

a tear, denied,

and a kiss that never was delivered.

change,

only if you want,

adapt,

not to survive,

adapt,

to be a better version of who you are.

you are not a sunray,

you are the sun itself,

and I am but one of many flowers,

whom are only able to flourish because...

well,

because of you

I drown,

in the polluted thoughts,

my brain generates.

To feel,

naturally unnatural.

To breathe in venom,

vile,

obscure

and

to need it,

in ways,

so unhealthy.

To die,

yet again,

is proof I am real.

I am real,

but...

no one sees,

or even tries to,

feel me.

I stand,

unconscious,

in a meticulously made conscience,

that knows nothing other than pain. 

heartbreak,

dry,

bitter and bare,

fields are yellow,

imminently devastated.

thunderstorm,

acid rain,

dirty and heavy tears.

the world, cruel,

broken road,

depressing song,

silent fate.

death, me, and her,

always arm in arm,

unconditionally connected,

disconsolate is the mind of those who think,

and those who think,

dream.

when dreaming,

I lose myself in the mist,

I find myself in the solitude,

where there is only a certain Henrique, and his shadow.

I fall into eternity,

I embrace the emptiness I carry.

I am not, nor will I ever be,

anything.

I am nothing.

I possess nothing.

desgosto,

seco, amargo e nú,

campos, amarelos,

iminentemente devastados.

trovoada,

chuva ácida,

lágrima sujas e pesadas.

mundo, cruel,

estrada esboracada,

coração, sem cura,

canção depressiva,

fado silêncioso.

a morte,

eu, e ela,

sempre de braço dado,

incondicionalmente ligados,

desconsolada é a mente de quem pensa,

e, quem pensa,

sonha.

ao sonhar,

perco-me na nebulina,

encontro-me na solidão,

onde existe somente um tal Henrique,

e

a sua sombra.

caio na eternidade,

abraço o vazio que carrego.

não sou,

nem serei,

alguma vez,

algo.

sou nada.

possuo nada.

sei que me vou perder,

amanhã,

como me perdi,

nesse mesmo dia que se repete, anualmente.

nesse dia,

não há bolo de aniversário.

nesse dia,

sou eu quem é partilhado e repartido.

não odeio fazer anos,

odeio a consequência de ser alguém,

que se preocupa, 

mais, com os outros,

do que com ele mesmo.

a solidão, vem, disfarçada,

amaldiçoada vida, 

esta que respiro,

vida que fez de mim eu mesmo.

se a verdade das coisas,

fizer das coisas, verdades insignificantes,

que significancia tenho eu,

que não sou nem verdadeiro,

que não possuo coisas,

que deixo que coisas me possuam,

que mascaro verdades com mentiras?

se encontrar importância em algo irrelevante,

talvez o importante seja o que não tem valor nem sentido.

I am growing,

in pain,

I am growing,

with the pain,

as if,

glued to it.

is it the pain or, perhaps, my shadow,

that imprisons me,

that shackles my soul,

that burns my dreams and hopes?

am I just one of many,

will I ever become someone?

someone other than me?

the absence of meaning,

the lack of emotion,

and,

a dried well.

people,

faces,

empty places.

the abyss engulfs my narrow but sharp view,

I am alone,

empty,

yet alive.

to live or to die,

to love or to hate.

I am stuck in a cycle,

a endless loop.

everyday I wake up,

in pain.

everyday I go to sleep, 

in pain.

if life is but a sting,

mangle whatever hopes reside in my core.

burn away the memories,

and... set me free. 

To feel what I feel,

and...
 

how i feel,

about someone,

whom i never met,

whom i never laid my eyes on,

is yet another one of life's mysteries.

it is not because of how she looks,

or... 

how she smiles.

it is not because the way she talks

or,

the way she tries.

thinking about her gives me tingles,

even my pain gets more bearable,

she is not just a friend,

not just someone who I adore.

her existence proves destiny is real,

as real as I and her,

as real as you and them.

a life lived deprived of sense,

a tear that drops with no purpose,

a faint smile,

absent of reason,

other than to seem what I am not.

i believe life's meaning will change,

only once I get to smell her surroundings,

and...

how gentle and calm her hands feel,

entangled in mine.

it is cruel,

to be alive,

so far from her.

if a meaning to live is needed,

you are the meaning to my life,

you are all the meanings,

all the reasons,

to persist,

to grab on to anything i can,

just to linger a while longer.

just a little bit more,

until i can finally die.

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.

to see not with the eyes,

to speak silently,

words absent of sound,

or, perhaps,

to dream awake,

a reality far too complex,

for us to ever grasp it,

even when we hold on to it,

like when a kid holds a balloon,

for the very first time.

whoever I am,

whatever I may be,

will never suffice.

the expectations and their judgment,

sinks deep in to my core,

and, has they look at me,

I feel like a prey,

looked down by its predator.

if my existence ever mattered,

I was never aware of it.

to give up,

on hopeless dreams,

or,

to dream, hopelessly,

about love,

and,

the pain it brings.

a curse,

or,

perhaps,

a blessing.

its purpose remains unclear.

the fog dissipates,

i can see clear,

there is love in every aspect,

in every bit of poison,

and,

even when backstabbed,

we still love.

we are bound,

intertwined by fate,

has if,

caged,

like a bird.

cruel destiny where,

those meant to fly,

cannot,

and,

where once freedom blossomed,

now remains only the garbage,

the putrid and vile.

what is love and,

what is it like to be loved?

i wouldn't know.

do you? 

even if you end up giving up,

you will remain alive in the pages,

forever dancing in the lines of my poems.

know that even though we are distant,

i keep you close in my heart.

i will move on with life,

but i will never forget you,

of that i am sure,

so, wherever you end up going,

you will always be close,

because my poems are kept inside me,

like the silent words i never told.

i miss you...

it can be scary living close to death.

 i understand your struggles but have you ever tried to understand mine?

to be a victim and the abuser at the same time,

it is but another one of life's ironies,

i wish i could be there,

i wish you'd forgive me,

but now...

it is too late for apologies.

stay safe, person whose name i shall not write,

live long,

or,

die young,

regardless how much time left,

i hope when your time comes,

you have no more regrets.

you will always be. well...

my biggest regret

 when I embrace you,

I feel a certain space between us,

a certain distance,

a childhood friend,

who arrived, belatedly,

you are everywhere except in the present.

the bitterness of farewell,

absent,

stained my life,

made me a nonbeliever.

absent,

from everything,

the heart does not lie.

a silent scream,

internal crying,

premature winter.

the truth?

I do not know it...

perhaps out of malice,

from someone unknown to me

quando te abraço,

sinto entre nós um certo espaço,

uma certa distância,

amiga de infância,

que chegou, tardiamente,

estás em todo o lado menos no presente.

a amargura da despedida,

ausente,

manchou a minha vida,

fez de mim descrente.

ausente,

de tudo,

o coração não mente.

um grito mudo,

choro interno,

prematuro inverno.

a verdade?

não a conheço...

talvez por maldade,

de quem desconheço.

smoking during the night,

staying up til dawn,

writing about her yet again,

is she okay? 

now that i am gone,

is she better?

the space she deserved,

awoke my insecurities,

the traumas came back to life,

and i lost myself yet again,

lost in the silence,

found at the bottom of the sea,

i am a type of poison,

i am a chocker,

slowly but surely,

i'll drain your life away,

just so you throw me away,

like a broken doll,

or something of no use,

just so i can relive,

all the things that make me want to die.

has she smilled i saw her tears,

i couldn't look away,

how beautiful can a soul be,

even clouded by pain,

is still kind enough to laugh,

she doesn't want to hurt anyone,

she wants to leave no scars,

in a way, i was more selfish than her,

even has she tried to end it all,

she thought about me,

i don't deserver her,

i am again reminded of my flaws,

and how ugly i am inside.

one day, she will recover,

she will love and heal,

and, as i lay dying,

on the bathtub,

i will cry,

cause i know i lost her,

the same day i finally found her,

such is the irony in life,

to give something to you,

just to take it away.

breathing underwater,

i have no pulse yet i live,

why do i still care? 

i wonder...

to be killed by love,

and to love what kills you,

are both things natural to me.

it matters not anymore,

to try to help,

to avoid causing damage,

i am but a dog,

naked and dirty,

abandoned at a crossroad.

to bite the hand that feeds you,

to sting your own body...

i know it is but a matter of time.

once again, a river flows in my arm,

once again, the blood drips from my thighs.

i could be saved yet i know i won't be,

not because i am not worthy,

but because the world is cruel,

and so are people.

no one cares at the of the day,

and i pray that i die soon.

i know i will become bitter,

sour and resentful,

the longer i live.

and, if i live like this,

long enough,

i too will make the world burn.

i might not understand exactly how you feel. i may not know all the "whys". i too wish for a way out of loneliness. An escape from a reality that is way too heavy. I manadged to fight these urges and thoughts by seeking strenght in the people that loved me. when I saw my mom running down the street as i was passing out from the pill box i took, i noticed her face of despair and agony. In a way, she saved me. Everytime I am about to give up, i am reminded of that same face. I would never want anyone i love to feel the way she felt because of my actions. I am unsure if this is a good solution or even a solution at all. But it helps me. Maybe it can help you too. I want to be someone who is there for you regardless. I cannot fill the role of a mother, father or sibling. I think I can't even be someone whom you can love romantically. But I am sure I would be able to be your friend. When your time comes, I will cry. I will move on. But i will never forget the teeth behind the prettiest smile I have ever seen. I will be here for you if you ever need someone to talk, make you company or even to enjoy silence and loneliness together.


she says go,

i say no,

words turn cold,

as we unfold,

i keep being told,

walk away,

as if i could,

there is no way,

if i could, i would,

it is unaturally natural, to me,

to seek her company.

to be ordinary,

is what i want to be,

if leaving is what you wish to do,

you do that. you be you.

i cannot stop waves from clashing on the shores,

before being refined, we are like a ore,

crude and simple,

romantic and biblical.

even if you give up,

or when you give up,

i want to be there.

these are my wishes,

fair or unfair,

i am but a hand that reaches,

i want to show,

not just with words.

that i am sorry.

to love is to worry,

and I too have my demons,

my own reasons,

to act like the boy i was,

my "because",

it reminded me of when mom left.

heart theft.

when i am thinking in bed.

angry and scared

broken and sad,

i am tainted yet i was spared.

Arrowless bow,

Uncertanty chords,

eternal internal conflict,

shapeless yet concrete,

the art in loving,

to see not a body,

but a heart, sturdy,

as if sharing,

who i am and what made me this way,

maybe, you will find a solution,

dennie the voices that obey,

stand proud like a lion.

because you are amazing...

you are strong yet so gentle,

you're brave enough to be kind,

you choose to trust,

you care,

you love,

just like me.

i see you,

laying on the ground,

beaten up,

dirt covers your face,

and yet,

you smile.

i know deep inside you are crying,

asking for someone,

somebody.

in your darkest moments,

i was selfish.

i cannot move on,

until i make amends with it,

i won't ask for forgiveness anymore,

i will earn it.

if you choose to push me,

i will cry,

i will hurt,

but,

i will respect it.

to be scarred,

not in the skin,

but in your heart,

or,

to be wounded,

by yourself.

it changes anybody.

yet again,

i failed,

i regret,

and i will move on.

    Hey, stinky you. If you are reading this, I won't be avaiable to annoy you anymore. I am writting you this because knowing myself, I won't be able to resist the urges to hurt myself. 

    I see now, at the end, that God wanted to show me the meaning behind the world love. I never felt this way before. Atleast not the extreme where i would be willing to abandon my home for someone else. I would do that only for you. 

    I know you feel alone and that it bothers you and I am sorry i wasn't strong enough to handle life's struggles. Sometimes i lose all hope for a better future. I can't see clearly right now. It is as if my mind was surrounded by fog.

    Out of all the parts of my life you manadged to be the best part of it in only a matter of weeks. You are my favorite person in the whole world. It matters not to me that you don't feel the same way about me. To me, what was most important was to be of use and help you find a way out of loneliness. 

    I know for a fact you have the strenght in you to overcome life's adversities. Every atempt to end yourself as been unsucessful. Ever wondered why? Most people would be dead a long time ago. You are brave enough to be kind. I admire that in you.

    If there is a life after death, i hope we meet there. Just make sure to take a shower you stinkyyyyy. 

    I love who you are Cecilia. I hope one day you will love yourself too. 

    Yours truly, Henrique Silva