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

i am what remains,

damaged goods, so they say,

a life of nothingness,

for nothing itself,

i am no one,

i bare no name,

no face or soul.

the past me,

burried long ago,

was food to the soil,

and a feast for the worms.

i devoured them,

one after the other,

i hate the world,

its creatures,

i despice life itself,

so, i shall write, now, poems,

to disturb and divide,

to instigate war,

as if a bomb,

sent for global anihalation.

the monsters no longer scare me,

i am them just as much as they are me,

human life is sinful,

therefore,

we must perish,

together,

with hands held,

to oblivion and extinsion.

muddy waters,

freezing cold,

the smell of despair,

and a touch of salt,

sorround the traces of her,

the images, now less clear,

portrait a face,

bitter and pale,

hateful and resentful.

it rains heavely,

on a heavenly bright day.

a mask,

many masks,

the truth is hidden behind,

a door for exits only,

the sound of a bird,

caged,

alone,

unware.

the meaning of nothingness,

and a truthful lie,

a merciful lie,

a stab from behind.

as the blood leaves,

death enters,

i, abandoned like a stray dog,

embrace the void,

and its terrors.

fear,

hunger,

and a tear drop.

Due to me being unable to deal with certain emotions and thoughts i decided to restart theraphy. I have been unable to sleep and when i am able to finally sleep my brain wakes me up. i been having nightmares. things i would rather never have to see. Sometimes i wake up crying and full of sweat. 

The more we care about someone the more we become vulnerable to pain. I don't fear the pain. I don't fear my own suffering or death. But, for some reason, the idea of a world where you are no longer there makes it unbearable for me.

I keep thinking, if i had been awake when she texted me would i have been able to change anything? I was unable to help you when you needed me the most. Now, everytime i am about to sleep my mind is transported to scenarios where i need to be awake.

I know you don't love me as i love you. It doesn't bother or hurt me one bit. You know, if I could be yours and make you mine I would do it. If you would want such a thing I'd accept it. For you and for you only i would abandom my current life just to be there for you. 

Maybe i am not the one you want to fill such a role. I get that. But, still, I would do it because i know i could be of some use to your well being and mental health if i was present. 

I look at you. I think about you. Althou you are the one i am looking at i can see myself clearly in you to. We are very much alike. At the same time, we share our differances. I know more about you now than i did when we first met. Your past, although troubled and traumatic, is the reason you are who you are. And if you could see yourself without the lences of depression maybe you could see yourself for who you really are.

Depression changes our perceptions of self. Don't trust your senses, heart or mind if all they tell you leads to negativity and self hate. I know it is hard to trust someone else on this but trust me. I have walked the path you are now walking and i to have faced similar trials. You are able to move on with your life, leave the past where it belongs and build a better future for yourself and the ones you love.

If you were no longer present in my life it would affect me deeply. It affected me deeply you know. The idea and uncertenty of you being dead. I won't be able to handle your passing. I know i won't. In a way, i feel i was made for you and you alone.

I hope you let me help you. I hope mostly that u help yourself. Please.

the day,

where i no longer am there,

should not be far,

my dear.

the pages,

composed by my poems,

are now tainted,

by my dry words.

i wish i could,

but i can't,

keep swimming,

against the flow.

i can't,

survive pain,

handle the constant cuts,

the cold skin burns,

or a low sense of self.

i will give up,

soon enough,

i will meet the ground,

that shall caress my dead body.

the thought of losing you forever,

the unability of being able to help,

a couple of tears,

and a bleeding arm.

the bitterness of words unspoken,

or,

perhaps,

your shadow,

will haunt the pages of my diary forevermore.

to turn away,

to walk away,

is something i cannot do,

and,

if you fall to the abyss,

i will fall with you.

such is the fate of one who loves,

deeply and with intensity.

to understand, you,

is natural,

so natural as breathing,

or,

dreaming.

walk with me,

either in this life,

or the next,

but,

no matter what,

don't abandon me.

sometimes, i feel as if i am still a boy,

unurtured,

naked and exposed,

complitely dependant.

a voice calls my name,

soundless voices,

souless shells,

empty canvas with no content,

other than fear and hatred.

i am lost,

in thoughts,

in space and time.

find me,

under the tree where we first kissed,

beneath the sky,

full of stars,

and dead dreams.

a tarde perfeita:

fiquei perplexo pela simplicidade do seu sorriso.

sorriso que, embora simples, é genuíno.

confesso que, durante a sua fala, me perdi,

não por me aborrecer com o conteúdo do assunto,

mas por me fascinar as suas expressões faciais.

o medo de não a conseguir olhar diretamente nos olhos,

não faz, agora, sentido.

percebi, cedo, que podia confiar nela,

e, quando retomei a escuta-la, voltei a encontrar-me.

ela fez-me sentir várias emoções,

numa só tarde,

e, sem se ter apercebido,

ajudou a reviver a esperança que outrora abandonei.

não sei o que nos aguarda,

sei, somente, que quero descobri-lo,

talvez por ser curioso,

mas, também, por acreditar que podemos ser algo,

genuinamente puro,

benéfico a ambos.

ainda me encontro estupefato,

e espero que isto não seja só um sonho.

quando acordar, amanhã,

espero reencontrar-te. 

if I could,

I would eat your pain.

I would add it to mine,

just so you could smile, once again.

to be strong, for a long period of time,

is to be slowly drained.

goodbye sanity,

sad reality,

where my friend is at death's door.

I cried and cried again,

upon thinking about her eyes.

I wish I could be there for you,

I wish i could nurse you back to health.

you deserve that and much more,

for you are me,

and I am you.

podemos observar o fim até mesmo no início de algo.

a vida está intrinsecamente ligada à morte.

em alguns momentos,

escapamos ao nosso destino.

casos estes peculiares tanto como raros.

mas, certamente, reais e verídicos.

num romance que nunca foi romântico,

residem duas almas.

almas singulares,

inquilinas numa casa comum a ambos,

que partilham a mesma consciência em corpos diferentes.

ligados, não só, pelo destino,

mas por algo transcendente ao tempo.

o amor é real somente para aqueles que amam.

talvez, como uma crença ou religião.

incerto é o caso onde existe amor derivado ao destino,

mais provável o caso onde existe destino graças ao amor.

se existe verdade numa realidade onde não há livre arbítrio,

porque não deveria existir, também, algo oposto a isso.

talvez, na nossa sombra,

possamos encontrar pingos de verdade.

o subconsciente humano é alvo de estudo,

por muitos.

talvez o que se esconde por baixo da superfície não seja tão complicado...

a estrada

matreira,

guia desordeira,

um passo para a frente,

passo para trás,

e,

caminho descalço,

por este caminho pavimentado.

uma reta,

com dois sentidos,

vou e venho,

para a frente,

para trás.

sorriso disfarçado,

cara escondida,

máscaras finitas,

escondem lágrimas infinitas.

o choro,

que ninguém escuta,

ou,

o grito,

que ninguém vê.

sobrevivo,

não vivo,

morto-vivo.

se pudesse, por palavras,

expressar o conteúdo do meu ser,

talvez não fosse o que sou.

talvez fosse o ser que sempre fui,

aquele ser que nunca mostrei,

não por medo,

nem vergonha,

mas, sim, por não saber sê-lo.

a verdade omitida,

comunicada no silêncio,

pode ser interpretada como mentira.

se pudesse existir verdade no mentiroso,

não faria sentido existir verdade nem mentira.

se pudesse, eu, ignorante,

imundo, sujo,

desumanamente nojento,

amar,

já o teria feito.

amar requer alma,

essência e empatia.

e, eu, carrego nada.

sou nada.

nado no vazio,

enquanto vou caindo,

pelo abismo que é o pensamento.

to have a moment where i can breathe the air,

fresh, cold and needed,

makes me question,

am i meant to feel,

more,

less,

or nothing at all?

if feeling is so peculiar, to me,

how come is it so natural.

if questions of love could be answered,

maybe they could be done in a poem,

or on a serenate bellow your balcony.

life is like a theater,

we, the actors,

are but paws on a chess board,

guided and oriented by the laws of the universe.

ignorant and unaware of the misteries that exist in it.

it isn't a suprise how my heart resonates with you,

in a way,

i see myself in you,

and, my dear,

i want you protect you,

has if you were, well...

a younger version of me.

my intentions are good,

but, perhaps, my actions aren't the best ones,

i do like you,

and,

one day,

you will like yourself too

carrego em mim o peso do mundo.

preocupo-me com a preocupação,

penso sobre o meu pensamento,

constante e agonizante.

ao vestir a pele que uso, diariamente,

escondo a pele que dispo, frequentemente.

o correr do sangue,

o cair de uma lágrima,

o choro agonizante do silêncio

e um grito interiorizado.

desbasta-me a dor permanente,

corta as camadas de sofrimento que circundam o meu ser.

a guest, uninvited,

on a empty residency,

a siluette with no content,

no body or soul.

only inside me you'll find hell,

take a look inside me,

stare in to the abyss through my eyes.

my heart no longer is,

my soul never was.

and i?

i'll never be.

to understand the dephts,

of something superficial,

or,

perhaps,

to love being hated.

i find confort in chaos,

i am addicted to pain,

and, has if it was a drug,

i depend on it.

as much as i can take,

keep hitting me,

stab my back,

sting my soul,

poison my mouth,

with your toxic tongue.

pierce the vests i wear,

vests made of silk,

silk made from all the webs,

webs of lies,

lies that are real,

and a reality that isn't true.

the pain of losing what we never had,

and to hold on to what never happened,

are both things unaturally natural,

to me,

maybe to you too.

we are hollow,

shallow,

hard marshmallow,

scented by death,

tainted by life,

and killed by love.

her words, 

shallow and hollow,

remind me of what i want not.

the pain of losing what we never had,

or a baloon that slips from our hand,

are both things i relive.

if today was any different from tomorrow,

maybe hope would still linger.

i am home to many,

and a voice to those who are faceless,

when i die make it quick,

make it painless.

love is a false hope,

a lie in april,

and a poisonous kiss

a door that leads to my core,

half closed, half opened,

and a half empty half full heart.

a mind filled with memories,

of places that never were.

i never was,

what i had to be,

and,

to be something,

is something i cannot be.

someone who wears masks,

many masks.

a wolf dressed as caddle

and a naked man.

i am my only enemy,

i follow my own shadow,

as a mad man chasing his childhood dreams.

to walk in my shoes you must first wear them,

but, unfortunatly, my shoes are no longer of any use,

filfhy, old and filled with holes,

are the shoes i wear on my fragile feet.

i walk on pavement made of burning hot charcoal,

created by the moments where i explode.

unable to hold all the anger,

all the frustations,

i let my emotions overflow,

and,

sadly,

i scare everyone away.

a broken unfixable toy,

mistaken for a body i wear,

a body that covers my insecurities

and my fears.

i wish i could be held once again,

but... i can't.