society

12/07/2017

i was silent and pliant, so they ate me up and spit me out, broken and fucked up. i did not protest, so they ground me up on their sharp walls, crushed me in their relentless engines. they steamrolled my in their asphalt of lies and corruption, and never once i stood up.

i always obeyed, blind; i never fought.

i also did not say a single thing when they took my neighbor, and my daughter; not much later, they took me. i didn’t resist, i didn’t open my mouth. they isolated me, then, filled me with fears, deflated my hopes, took away my rights, my decency.

they stole my humanity by exploiting my cowardliness, my carelessness, my apathy.

so, when I was left in the cold, dark bottom, it was too late; no one could finally hear me scream.

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triangulation of desire

11/07/2017

he had kind eyes,
a warm and kind sense
of justice
and a charming smile
that could get him out
of any trouble.

that was almost nothing
but just enough
to fine-tune
my appetite.

mermaid

03/07/2017

on nasty days,
I always thought of myself
as some scary
deep-sea creature
full of angry, sharp teeth.

when calmer,
i pictured myself, maybe, as
a rock from the bottom
of the oceans:
hard and mossy,
unlikeable, untouchable,
something
so cold no one
would ever wanna take home.

and no one could change
this image of myself,
no matter how many friends,
or how many hugs
I would get,
how many messages
or love gestures.

no mirror could display
any but hideous things.

I could only see
me
ten-thousand feet
below,
into the cold water.

I was always
alone in my thoughts.

***

and then,
in a rare moment
I surfaced,
up up up, until I was
close to the land.

up there,
you came along:
a flurry little creature,
swimming about.

you circled me once, and then again,
twirling the waters,
dancing
in a flow
full of power.

as you cut
the waters,
the scales on your tail sparkled.
when I touched them,
they were as hard and as colorful
as a thousand gems
under my fingertips.

I caressed you
over and over,
and as you laid your head on my shoulder,
your coal-black hair floated
and shone almost white
under the milky moonlight.

the refraction
under the water
made it all look
like fractals.

so pretty
were your pearly white teeth
when you smiled.

***

and you visited,
many times.
we danced,
and talked until the wee hours,
stopping only when the fishermen came along.
we were
as happy as we could
for that moment.

we played cards
on sunken ships,
and you’d always let me win.

“you clearly wanted the victory,
so I don’t see the point in winning
like this.”

on these moments,
I didn’t see myself
as distorted
anymore;
as you touched me,
as we kissed,
I felt things that I hadn’t in very, very long.

but the surface
was bright
and loud! too loud!
and I wanted silence.

yet the seafloor was too dark,
and too quiet for you,
the water murky,
the ambiance too chilly:
you wanted the moon
and the stars,
and the shells in the sand.

you wanted the world
above,
and try to, one day,
take the land.

***

so, I gave you what I could:
my name and a promise
that I’d answer
every time you called.

and a goodbye,
so you could go.

I gave you the victory
you yearned for:

there was no longer
a point in winning
if you could not have
the light that you needed.

obsolete

24/06/2017

your stormy
obsidian eyes
got to me.

so, after
being closed up
on my own
for so long,
i decided to
open up
and show you
what was in me,
for years,
so heavily guarded.

i am just sorry that
after being reserved
for so long,
what was stored inside
was basically
rotten.

cheater

21/06/2017

in a world
obsessed with pictures
to measure value,
everyone
meticulously curates
a perfect image
to express themselves
to others,
either to
please
or to deceive.

thus,
it’s hard to believe
innocence,
and naiveté
when someone
crafts
a specific picture
to reveal
and
-specially –
to conceal
certain aspects
of things.

it’s my birthday today

25/05/2017

I am, at last, 30 years old.

A day I never envisioned
coming
but always hoped to get to.

Isn’t life a hoot?
I like to think so.

***
as a gift
I dedicate to myself
an itsy bitsy part of my very favorite poem:

“(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)”
– e. e. cummings

 

thirties

21/05/2017

as my biological age
catches up fast
with my mental age,
people ask me
what fortunes I wish
life reserves me
in the future.

long gone are my desires
to be worshiped
as the best,
the shiniest,
the most
p-r-o-m-i-n-e-n-t.

all those who shine too bright
are flashes only:
burn without substance,
leaving nothing to be
remembered by,
nothing solid to be touched.

I want to go
deep
below the surface.

I want quiet
and calm conversations
into the night –
purposeful!
I want honest
and earnest;
not ahead,
but side by side.

all gold that is here today
for show
will probably be gone tomorrow.

living your life to please others
is not worthy:
the best is to please yourself.

forgiving oneself
is always the hardest
for you are
your hardest judge and jury,
the pickiest to please.

so I want to love myself
to the fullest,
this way, I am not that person
that everybody loves,
but nobody likes.

as I blow
birthday candles,
I want the heart of gold:
to adore
and be adored purely,
lovingly, not smarmy.

so my biggest wish
as I grow older
is not to vapid fortunes,
but to constantly
grow more and more humble.

the part of the story no one wants to hear

16/05/2017

is that, in the end,
you’re not really better
than him.

that she indeed could find
someone finer than you.

that you are not the greatest,
not irreplaceable.

not someone
special, one of a kind,
as you thought yourself
to be.

all in all,
you are just a person,
– neither good nor bad –
just one
that wasn’t right
for someone else.

(and that yes, she got over you
and, surely, found
somebody just as good,
if not worthier)

***

however,
the good part
that I personally think you should hear
is
that you’re no one’s second choice,
no one’s leftovers,

and that you do have value,
maybe not for this one person,
nor that other,
but you’ll be a good fit
(someday!)
for somebody new.

smoking

07/05/2017

i never think
about you
when i am sober…
but the moment
i get intoxicated,
you are all i want
in my mouth.

senses #5 – sight

15/04/2017

when the night heats up
in the city,
the water from days,
from puddles,
from cups,
from the air
evaporates
and sticks to the bodies,
a condensed humidity,
mixed
to a salty sweat
that never goes away.

it makes bodies shine
under neon lights
of  damp alleys
and stuffy dance clubs;
it’s so pretty.

it’s in a heat wave
that cuts through my body
and lights up my nerves
like thunder,
that my skin tingles,
inside out,
and everything
flares up:

goosebumps are a photo
of desire
when my thighs
touches your thighs
as we cross each other’s steps
in the ballroom,
my pupils dilate
as a chopped-up picture of you
flashes, on and off,
under stroboscopic lights,
and fingers glide
through arms
in barely-there touches.