Is the Time…

junio 23, 2016

I walked in a robes; 

I looked above and I found the moon… 

I learned that is not time to back… 
I fell down. 

The world laughing was cruel… 

But I started all over again. 
Too strong… 

Too alone. 
The time flies…

The fears insists, want me prisoner. 

I refuse, I battle, I get tired. 
I know what is the love now… 

I’m with a big rock, 

The siren is tired… It’s almost the noon. 
Where am I? 
In his thoughts. 

In my mind. 

In the ashes of the memories… 
The time told me that is Time. 

Is the time to see where I go, 

Back to years ago? Maybe, for a minutes… 
Who believe in miracles? 

I see through the smoke…

The cigarette in your mouth. 
Dry lips. 

Another book is closed. 

No back. 
Only back to my present. 

Absolve the past. 

Grave the pain. 
Opening my eyes. 

Is time. 
I’m alive. 

I’m me. 

The sign is there… 
The lights keeps me awake… 

No point to return. 
A sweet kiss. 

Death. I’m not going, not yet. 
I want to fly. 

Starting my day with a cup of tea, coffee. 

Messy bed sheets. 
Cold weather. 

The siren wants to swim… 

You still there. 
I’ll be back. 

The light is so strong. 

I need to hide. 
I’m yours. 

You are my treasure. 
Antique, very. 

With scratches so beautiful. 
I won’t let you drying in the sand. 

Not alone anymore. 
They can’t , they won’t. 

The moon will be protecting you. 
I’m swimming. 
I’m not dreaming, 

I’m not floating. 

I see you. 
Shaped, cracking. 

I will take care of you. 
I know what is the pain. 

It’s time to over the suffering. 

Rise from the ashes… 
I’m fire, 

You are covered with water… 
No more time. 

I’ve learned 

The happiness with you 

No more loneliness 

Broken boundaries 

I’m coming to you. 

The past is in the grave. 
It’s time. 

It’s time. 

It’s time. 
You are my sign…

You are my destination. 
The silence reminds 

The words never spoken. 
Too strong. 

Too fragile. 
Too antique. 
Too charming. 

My generation 

junio 6, 2016

The better of my generation is dead by now… 
We lost in the same crow. 
A vampire, or a victim… 

Seven eleven, green light… 
Yes, I’m listening U2
And I remember in dreams the past, that maybe nobody saw, or understood. 

Love, London… Germany, Ireland, Spain. 

Books, more books, dictionaries, loss. 

Rain, sun, seasons. 

The past. 

The life. 

The death. 
«There’s no one around.»


junio 6, 2016




David Bowie



A veces

junio 6, 2016

Simplemente, a veces pienso que si alguien, acaso, algún día me conociera de verdad… 
Se asustaría demasiado. 
Los que sólo han sabido de mí, son errores en mi vida. 
6:09 en la mañana 

Pensamientos random.