Of love, pain, hatred and dementia...

I loved you

2006-01-21T20:19:00.000-03:00

I loved You of so many ways
that I empty of love I have stayed.

I loved you strongly,
when the butterflies
were filling our space.

I loved you with attention,
when the charm of your words
were flooding my ears.

I loved you with tenderness,
when I was caressing your caresses
in the peace of our encounters.

I loved you with lust,
when we were one
in the dampness of our sheets.

I loved you patiently,
when the shouts
were an awkward symphony.

I loved you with naivety,
when I was not understanding
that you were sharing your love.

I loved you with madness,
when with your acts
I felt that I was losing you.

I loved you with anger,
when your shade
disappeared of my environment.

Now,
in the hour of the inventory,
I feel that I loved you of so many ways.

And if to love means without death,
I will be condemned to love you the whole life,
this time with real love,
though already you are not.

Amen

2006-01-20T16:52:00.000-03:00

My shouts will not do to your lips to say my name again,
in the soundless space,
where are the remains of your kisses
that were saying to be big.

One by one they make echo
and will explode the looks to my.
But your feelings will continue
in eternal rest

My tears will not make to your instincts to grow furious again,
in the unfertile land,
where are the remains of your passion
that was saying to be big.

One by one will make a rain
and germinate a forest of foreign emotions,
but your feel it will continue
in eternal rest.

My verses will not do to your body to touch mine again,
in the silent tomb,
where are the remains of your love
that was playing at being big.

One to one they accumulate
and they will make wake up to the coldest souls,
but your feelings will continue
in eternal rest.

Does not matter all that I shout,
does not matter all that I cry,
does not matter all my verses,
your feeling will continue
in eternal rest.
For the centuries of the centuries.

Hatred

2005-11-30T21:11:00.000-03:00

I Confess that I dreamed you down on your knees,
with blood of tears in your hands,
begging pardon.

You were dragging your pride of insect,
and your upset lips were stuttering
all kinds of pain.

I did not let you recover.
The request of your words
was doing echo in my empty heart.
And one by one,
the drops of your eyes were lashes in your soul
and prizes in mine.

You will dry your own weeping some day
with the same hands
that touched another skin.

And I will be who grows more...

Damned revenge

2005-11-22T18:45:00.000-03:00

At The end you have died
and I prefer not to burying you.
To do it would be as to hide the hatred
and to swallow the rancor.
I must to calm my soul
looking as your meat rots
and your eyes dry off under the pale autumn Sun.
The same Sun that saw how was born
one of the most horrifying histories of love
and that now dries my happy weeping,
while I look at the tomb...
... That you will never have!!!

My steps without your feet

2005-11-11T17:40:00.000-03:00

My feet do not follow your hurried steps,
which advance with the force of his motive adult.
My aching steps lack from your guide
and between so much semidarkness they will get lost.

I have seen your absence to come in the nights,
it embraces me and kisses me up to the dawn.
I hate its presence as hatred my silence,
it will will to remain up to the end of my life.

Without voice as accepting a penalty of death,
I submit to your departure with resignation.
Even if I shout your name you do not return,
my breath becomes extinct and my voice goes out.

And this way without your shade ultimately I have remained,
searching in my corners a little bit of you.
Crying to the luck and his dark destiny,
dying in the cold of my steps without your feet.

And you were not

2005-11-11T16:48:00.000-03:00

And then I knew that I was losing you.
In that moment, the blood of the Sun was flooding the space.
The gulls, sad, were crying.
While the breeze was an ice under the infernal sky.

And then I knew that you would not return.
In that moment, The blood of the Sun already was becoming extinct.
My soul, sad, was crying.
While the heat of your body accompanied to the breeze.

And then I knew that I would die.
In that moment, the damned moon put into mourning to the tide.
My eyes, without life, of weeping were dying.
While my skin, without your shade, was an ice of breeze.

And I was dying.
And you were not.
And you already were not.