wish you were here


i miss people that don’t deserve it.

I have to tell myself
that i shouldn’t feel anything,
– cold and amiss –
that they probably don’t miss me,
and never t think about me,
that they left me behind
and even wish
bad things on me.

i see their ghosts
and little evidences
of their passage
through my life

little scribbles
in books,
smiling pictures,
burned behind my eyelids,
sometimes my dreams.

and that touches
me deeply.

so, i miss them dearly
like one misses
the departed:

with moist eyes
and very dearly,
whishing them peace.




your lips hold more
than secrets,
they hold memories.

it’s too easy
to seek comfort
in the fire of an old love:

i fall for faces
like yours
all the time.

i always fall for your type.

i know
all of your kisses,
the curves and ridges
of your lips,
how tight are your hugs
and how your voice sounds
when you call my name
late into the night.

like a siren,
i hear your calling,
your sweet singing,
down I go,

“i know you love me, but you’re not in love with me”


and, as you leave,
i don’t know
how i should feel.

the sun rises,
the birds chirp
and the world starts spinning again

(as does my head)



my father
was a good christian
that loved saying:
not even the lord
was able to please everyone;
so you won’t be either.

his words resonate
to this day.

thus, it’s ok
if someone hates you, really.
we came to this world
for other things,
greater things
than petty people.

hear what i say:
there is
no need to try so hard
to please others;
to try so badly
to give love,
nor to yearn so hard
to be loved in return.

love doesn’t need to be so
fought for.

just follow your true north,
your heart,
-constant, steadfast
be your best self,
loosen your grip
and the right one
will slip right in.



don’t interpret
my resistance to change
as a refusal of the new,
of the good,
of the bright.

think of it
as a part of my character
in the likes of a boulder:
and unwavering.



i am feeling very nostalgic today.
i haven’t really been sleeping well,
i know.
my brain waves
are on the fry.

i’m exhausted
but can’t close my eyes,
can’t sleep.

i’m restless.

and i can’t write, really.
all the words are stuck
in my throat,
sentences jumbled
and scattered around my brain.

temporary aphasia;
i open my mouth
but nothing comes out of it.

i just gasp,
and gasp,
blowing bubbles like a fish.

i stare at my pencil,
at my notebook,
and start to believe that
i no longer know how to write.

but here i am,
trying, at least,
staring at my cursor,
pressing down the keys
(backspace after backspace
after backspace).

so i look at old pictures
as a way to inspire me.
some are
old pictures from an old me
that i don’t recognize:

another person
that was not so bad,
and not so good,
but important to get to be
where and
who we are now.

and also old pictures
of beloved people
that i lost,
or that i had to leave behind.

this’ the greatest growing pain
of my life:
cutting ties
with great loves
that i protected
and never regretted
but that i could
no longer live by
their side.

as usually,
was the price paid…

as sure as ice melts,
we all did,
at some point,
build things
only so they could fall apart,
kept people
in a glass
to protect them
only so they could flee
away, straight into harm.

never saying a single thanks,
but oh well.
they are not obliged to, really.

this is normal,
and healthy,
for no person is ours really,
to have
and to keep.

they are theirs
to make their own choices,
and it’s not your job
to try and live their lives for them.

i’m coming to peace with it.

and i am not sad,
about it,
about anything really.
i’m just mindful.

i can’t dream,
i can’t rest,
but i am alive,
i am here,
and will be
for another sunrise.

one last sprint


as the old year is about to end
and a new one is about to be born,
i’d like to reserve a minute
before my favorite moment of the yearly cycle
to reflect upon my life.

what a great year it was!
what a great thing it is
to be blessed
with good fortunes,
to have so many plates
on my table now:
i’m eating well and plenty.

so blessed, and not-so humbled:
i am fresh
and so spoiled now,
ready to start everything all over again.

however, although seeking
and getting
everything shiny, glossy and new is good,
after so many gained things,
i forgot how to celebrate loss.

thus, at this final moment,
right before popping the champagne bottles,
i’d like to praise all the things i lost
this year.

from the kilos i shed
to the coins i tossed in fountains,
from the earrings that disappeared
to the keys forgotten,
i believe i lost everything i had to lose.

it wasn’t always enjoyable,
but it was
what it had to be.

sometimes, i lost good things
and valuable time,
but it all served as lessons.

i suffered, but learned
from the loss
of valuable things,
but also am very grateful
for the excesses i threw away
and the not-so good people
that i left behind for good.

so, goodbye, bad memories!
adieu, long lost lovers,
disconnected feelings,
painful reminders,
toxic companions,
midnight anxieties,
incomplete projects.

failures and more failures,
dreadful thoughts –
see you never!

all that had to go,
is now gone.
i lost what i had to lose
and am now better,
am now ready
to gain what’s good again.

so, thank you,
for a great 2017.


happy new year, everyone!
see you in january.
practice good over evil, and keep up the AMAZING work.

all best,


have a vengeful little Christmas


(and a violent new year!)

it’s the end of the year,
so have some compassion.
think of jesus, or some other
merciful god,
and practice good over evil.

however, do it only to people who don’t know you
and that you don’t know,
who don’t expect it,
who have no sanity,
who have no roof over their heads.

everyone you DO know
is sitting their fats butts
on their comfortable, warm couches,
sipping expensive wine,
eating finely aged cheese,
talking shit about other people.

these so called “good people”
will skin you alive
and don’t need a single
thought on your head,
nor a moment of your mercy.

those “family values” motherfuckers
are all snakes,
and are never concerned about your well-being,
your mental health,
or even if you even live or die…

thus, all those “friendly” fakes
and phonies
is to have their teeth
kicked in.



there are always rituals.

and night rituals,
and daily dances;

you brush your teeth
at 22:45,
right after you shower,
right before bed,
i see you through the foggy mirror
as I walk to the kitchen
to get a glass of water
that’ll wake me up
a bit before dawn.

these scenes
bore me out of my mind
and others,
they save me
from drowning
in this ocean of silence,
in this universe
of anxiety
that’s contained
and crammed
my skull.

in the end,
i’m glad
that we’re here.

i can’t sit in one place



hello, friends. sorry for the quick interruption on poetics… just wanted to inform you all that, apart from this blog, I’ve started a new side project on a new media that I am super excited about. this in no way means that I am closing this blog (I’m still a poet at heart), but podcasting is new and fresh and I’m super excited about it, and to share it with you all.

my podcast is in my native language (ptBR) though and it’s called Allowed Cast. you can find it on soundcloud here.

and yeah, I know many of you don’t speak Portuguese, so you probably won’t understand what we are saying (sorry!), but good thing is that we also create music playlists that everyone can enjoy. you can find these playlists here, and play them at the gym or parties or just while chillin’.

it’s a great project, I swear. thanks for the attention. now, back to our normal poetry schedule!

– Flavs

all the lost things


all i wanted was for you to mark me. i wanted you to bare your teeth at me and bite me, bruise my skin in black and blue from my neck to my thighs, and my spine. i wanted you to have me whole, to claim me as some ancient thing from immemorial times. i wanted you to grab me, put your arms around me, encase me.
(i always liked your weight on me.)

i wanted you to write on me so i could tattoo over the words and keep you on me at all times, so i could always touch with my fingertips what i meant to you, all those sweet things – i wouldn’t even regret it after everything was over between us.
(it would inevitably be over.)

“would you want to look forever at it? for other people to see it? why would you want to have it? it was never meant to be!” you’d ask me [if we still spoke to one another]. you’d call me mad, for sure, and hopeless and strange.

but really, how could i mind? how worse can it be to show on the outside what i somehow still feel? how can words to the world be any worse than the thoughts i carry in my head everyday, then the memories everyone has in their souls?

(it’s not painful. here, look at all these poems i already made for you. it is a process.)

a tattoo, in the end, is just a picture: a remembrance of a thing that will always be, a past that was a promise of everything, something i want to show everyone because, wether it failed or not, wether you like it or not, talk about it or not, it is part of who i am. your past is my past.
(the threads of our lives are entwined. bygones are bygones, but it’s all a happy place now, a cozy home where we once lived in.)

i am not ashamed and neither should you be. i like who i am becoming, and you have a share in it. accept it.
(write to me. let’s talk.)