quinta-feira, 27 de dezembro de 2012

Misery comes in.

She's a very scary girl with pain in her heart.

Misery is very lost inside herself.
Afraid of going mad,
Misery hides herself under the black coat of her love,
Misery's heart cries but her eyes are dry.
A smile is suffer inserted in her wrists.
Come in little girl. - I said.
Afraid of confrontation,
Misery confused ran away.
Solitude is not a sin.
I hope for a better day when Misery comes in.
I know that deep inside herself,
Sun shines as bright as mine.
The love as gone of her life
But she'll not give in.
The smoke once again fills the air.
Her heart crawls in flame.
Misery not wanting to go mad cut's her neck,
Some people said she lost her head.
Slave of her body,
She doesn't give in,
That's when Misery comes in.



quarta-feira, 19 de dezembro de 2012

A fundo.

Once you told me you wanted to take me outside, to see me beautiful in the breeze of the city. So I could  breath more than smoke cigarette. I can't, I'm very lock in my world, I hardly breath in this smoke but It's so hazy and comfy here, out there I don't know and I miss it.
I miss the cold rushing into my skin, sometimes I even try to not wear much clothes just to feel the cold going under my flesh so I can feel that I'm still alive, it works for seconds, seconds where I can breath fresh air, only a few miserable seconds.
I'm not very human I think. Once someone told me that humans need to eat, drink and sleep. I usually don't. I eat but just because I enjoy it, I never felt hungry just a huge appetite that is never satisfied.  Only when I cut you with a broken glass and I drink your blood my appetite is gone. I enjoy it, I enjoy the surprised pain in your face. So I'm always thirst too and sleep only pills can solve it and the thought that I can be trapped again in a solitary.
Nostalgia is my sin.


segunda-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2012

Intro


The sun was rising on earth.
The birds were coming back to home.
The dreams were dying in the imagination.
The cars were slowly start to function.
The heart of the deads were alive, beating.

You were late again.

The man already spoke.
The glass was already broke.
The bus was running away.
The drops were taking the floor.

You breath, back again in time.

The man never spoke.
The glass was in the wound.
The bus right away for you.
The sky all blue.

Hours, minutes, seconds
Running all damn fast.

The moon was rising in the sky.
The body of the woman was coming back home.
The dreams were starting to born in the mind.
The cars stopped the noise.
The heart slowly into coma.



sexta-feira, 16 de novembro de 2012

Blue melancholy.

I wish we could be happier, we are not. We are the sadness in the end of a long hard day, we are the sigh from the mouths of the workers. I wish we could smile, grow up and have kids. Be just simple as that but we are two complicated beings, the ones that the madness itches in the mind, two crushed souls upon each other. We can die safely but not satisfied. Our memories are full of blank sorrow, empty tears, hollow days. I still crave for your kiss, your skin upon mine and for all our sadness to bury me in the darkness of your thighs. I wish we could be happier, we are not but I still crave for your eyes. I'm in love with the sadness of our days, the way it's all grey and even the sea barely blue is. I wish you were mine but unfortunately you belong to your thoughts like I belong to mine. We still sink into each other like if our thoughts were made by our regret, our melancholy times.



terça-feira, 18 de setembro de 2012

I was tenderly sick in a maze of madness until our souls have created an end into my beautiful sadness.

My eyes are always closed before your greatness         
My breath is cautious and my sorrow I can't find    
Between your delicate line                                                  
I lose my thoughts and my mind.  


                                      



Darling never kiss me goodbye,
Please kiss me suicide.



segunda-feira, 10 de setembro de 2012

.


I embrace all my sadness with gratitude, with all the pleasure in the world, with all the tears that drop in myself and suffocate my throat until none of my breath can't go out of my mouth.
I love all the lovers that I can't love and I feel all the suffer that they have because I don't love them the same way, but if I cry sometimes, I cry for them, I cry for the souls that I cannot love, I cry for the ones that cannot be loved by me and I cry for myself for cannot be loved by anyone but me. Narcissism enters insane.
Insane in my passion by me.
Solitude is my only friend and the rest is enemy to death.


sexta-feira, 13 de julho de 2012

Por entre as paredes.

As paredes eram altas e brancas,
Fugiam na minha mente
Levavam-me até ficar demente.
Perdiam-me na curiosidade
De poder ver além,
De poder ver o que não existia
E o que eu podia ficar sem.

As paredes eram compridas e luminosas,
Podia-me infiltrar sem me verem,
Raspar as unhas sem lhes mexer.
Os outros passam sem as lerem.
Eu passo e o infinito eu encontro
No frio de um desencontro.


Das paredes sobram portas.


quinta-feira, 12 de julho de 2012

Espero pela tua morte, consigo ouvir o ponteiro dos segundos a passar e a passar e a passar. Estou apenas a matar tempo, segundos, minutos, horas, dias... Espero pela tua morte.
Um dia acabarei por me envenenar a mim própria, ao acaso, por engano. Devia ter envenenado outra pessoa, outro ser, não sei mas o meu prato foi o que me foi posto à frente, come o que está à tua frente.



sábado, 9 de junho de 2012

Schizophrenia

The walls are like waves of the sea
Where you can hide
When nobody else sees.

The colors are places
Where you can dream and be warm
For the while when faces
Do not come.

Light is where everything shines.
When the faces starts to come,
While you are asleep
Light can save you from the deep.



sexta-feira, 18 de maio de 2012

Os meus genes.

Nós sentamos-nos no carro de novo, outra vez. Pela milésima vez. Com um cigarro aceso nas tuas mãos, nas tuas mãos pesadas de homem, de homem tens pouco. Cobarde. Olhaste-me nos olhos pela primeira vez, de todas as vezes que já nos tínhamos sentado naquele carro, tu realmente olhas-te para os meus olhos e o que te restou foi chorar.
O que me restou foi chorar.


quinta-feira, 26 de abril de 2012

Bubbles


There was this bubble, this little bubble that was growing up in the air, her life was in the air with magic and gardens full of roses. Once she was almost hitting the floor, she didn't wanted it but everyone that she knew said that was the future and everyone was there, in the floor.
You know what happens when a bubble hits the floor?




quarta-feira, 4 de abril de 2012

Bullets

The sky was bright under your knees,
Your breath is still in mine.
Your eyes I can't find.
You switch from car in car.
You can not realize what I hide,
You have to be patient and kind.
Gently you find me very far,
You realize my dreams and scars.
I was in love with my own skin,
Under the lake between the dreams,
Only nightmares.
You find that is not a relief to wake up.
Smash me up into the rocks, into the floor,
Cut me up, rush my skin into yours.
The sky is bright and the birds sings in your dreams.

Take me close to paradise
The leaves are falling down.



segunda-feira, 26 de março de 2012

domingo, 18 de março de 2012

Money can't buy my dream

I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.


Charles Bukowski

sábado, 17 de março de 2012

terça-feira, 6 de março de 2012

"I’m not sentimental — I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last — the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won’t." — F. Scott Fitzgerald

quarta-feira, 29 de fevereiro de 2012

SS

I met you in your decay of love
Through your spicy sheets,
In the middle of trust.
You left in the morning
Before your sad story
Turn into an end
Full of glory.



Nice to meet you,
again.

quarta-feira, 22 de fevereiro de 2012

Plantação

Não sei como cheguei aqui, preto, vazio, nada. A vida é feita disto de um enorme caos de vazio, nada tem uma razão de ser ou de estar e se nada tem uma razão quem sou eu para a ter.
O objectivo é morrer, como posso.  Morrer de que tipo de morte? Da vida, pior maneira de morrer é de velhice. O objectivo de prolongar a vida é inutil para mim quando eu tenho escrito na teste morte. Não existe nada para eu fazer aqui, achei que sim mas não aliás eu. Eu, o meu ser é um caos solto de lástimas. Toda a gente é caos. Eu sou o caos livre o que está na minha cabeça está cá fora e eu grito e rebolo tenho pena que mais ninguém o faça, todos querem ser o que não são ou melhores do que os rodeiam, eu quero ser o MEU corpo a MINHA mente a MINHA alma, ao treiná-la não serei eu, ao treinar-me estou a controlar o que me foi dado, recuso controlo, mas aceito a experiência não forçada mas a que vem com o peso da vida. 
Se me contradigo é porque não minto.
Prelongar a vida só prelonga o sofrimento. É simples, morrer,


As minhas mãos já estão sujas de sangue.



sexta-feira, 17 de fevereiro de 2012

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

Sorry for all the mistakes,
For all the pain that I cause.
You dragged me with you
And you closed all the doors.

quarta-feira, 15 de fevereiro de 2012

sexta-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2012

L'esprit de l'escalier.

I'm sentences rolling in your tongue,
You see me but you don't feel me.
A glass between us is
Something from you will never be free.




terça-feira, 17 de janeiro de 2012

The testament.

The rough hands of someone older 
Touching my lips, my neck, my thighs...
My scars growing bolder
Between the legs and the lies.

Some white powder shinning in the air
Confused with the nose of a child.
I have become wild
With your air, so high.

segunda-feira, 2 de janeiro de 2012

Nice to meet you again.

Nunca pensei voltar a ver-te, a tocar-te. Deixarei tudo por ti, nunca vi ninguém tão belo.

I think I'm in love... I'm in love with your eyes, with your mouth, with your hands. Even the way you breathe, I want to breathe with you in my eternal dreams, in my eternal sorrow. Take my hand and let me clean your scars and show you again to the world, so brave and new. With you I don't have a tomorrow, I have a today. Every second is an enjoying of happiness, don't make me lose you.
You are eternity, you are the light.
Narcissism, you're my love.