Another english poem.

[POEM TWO]

                                           COLLISION.

She knew he wasn’t going to come back.

Not today.

And the frail bird who always lives in the window of her room.

He doesn’t sing anymore.

He ran out of joy.

And sadness was their way of life now.

They played the game like they were toys.

But they will never be the bride and the groom.

She can realise that now.

So she is wasting her time.

With her head mulling over the absolute mess.

Watching the stars shine.

What a fool little girl!

Write on me.

Un pequeño movimiento de muñeca
que deja un preciso trazo de carbón sobre mi piel.
Tus manos decididas dibujando momentos con minuciosidad.
Difícil de borrar.
Difícil de olvidar.
Escribes sobre mí, escribes sobre mi cuerpo.
Tinta que rellena cada agujero vacío de gris.   
Huellas que poco a poco me van construyendo.  
Que me llevan hasta ti.  
Que me devuelven a mí.                             

                                                          

"Everything is blank until you draw me

Touching on my body like you know me

Write on me

Color outside the lines

Love the way you tat me up

Baby take your time"

Experimentando.

[POEM ONE]

LITTLE BIRD.

And a poor little bird

has fallen from the tree.

He thought he could fly,

see the world at its best

-and at its worst-,

do whatever he want.

He thought he could experiment

a whole new birth.

But the problem was

(Oh! Poor little bird)

that he wasn’t free. 

Luna.

Tan pálida y quieta.

Con tu brillo la ciudad reflejas.

Y eres la única testigo de la tristeza

de aquella pequeña niña de largas trenzas.

Esa que permanece en pie

justo frente al mar,

sintiendo celos del pez

que nada feliz en libertad.

Luna.

Tan pálida y quieta.

Allí arriba estás segura,

de la humanidad

y la locura. 

Blue Valentine 💙