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