Tainted

He pushed her to the darkest corner. Not the shaky lights or the beating music got to their senses; they were alone in a place where no body was ever lonely. His presences made her hazy; she followed his eyes to where ever they looked, moving to the rhythm of sound, never loosing the connection to which she was now lost.
The night went by like hours do, and finally she took him by his words. His right hand fell on her waist, soft and firm. He pinned her against the wall and began. She let go. His left hand took the time to move out of its hidden place, tracing paths over the soft union of soul and mind. He caressed, and slowly pushed until he had created a mark of colour life and she, nervous, pulled away.
He stopped her and with strength threw her to the once gentle wall, took her by the wrists and looked deep in to her eyes. She screamed. Her hearth beat landed in her changing fist; once white, now blue, going from being a live to being death. Never had golden scared her so much.
It wasn’t like anything she knew; it was rich and a live, it moved inside a sphere of light but still there was a dark feeling to it. She wanted to run, to cry, yet nothing came from her; not a sound not a wince. His hands left hers but still she couldn’t move, his nails started to ascend to her neck, going over her arms, her waist, her skin. He kissed every part of the way, as if he cared. Her thoughts rambled on and on; what would he do? And why? Why her?
He hadn’t spoken a word so at the moment he did it seemed like a part of a broken song. It will last forever he said to her ear. Her blood was running, pumping, her senses open to the slightest emotion. The adrenaline building her up. And she felt it; his cold breath in her skin, his wet lips on her neck, his sharp teeth inside her.
The sacred liquid in her veins exploded spilling on her white- pink blouse, the one she had just borrowed, the one she wouldn’t want to spend eternity in. And she could feel everything; the days of her past, and his past, and some kind of collective. She had every single memory inside her. She could see them running in her mind, hiding one from the other, mixing births and deaths and games and lies. Her body stopped making an effort and concentrated on letting go with grace. She fell in his arms that were now strong and big. He was living again. For a moment he was awake again.
He held her until she was gone, waiting for her to wake up again, to open her eyes and jump out of the floor to go dancing. He grabbed a clean handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned the red dripping from his mouth.
He saw her as she walked away in to the whole, as pale as possible, as fragile as bones, with the power of a new born. Only he saw this, to the rest she was as beautiful and full of life as never before, she was now, to the rest, the strongest walker in the room.

Para Nadie en Especial

Tú te fuiste. Él regresó.
Anda por ahí metiéndose y saliéndose de mi alma;
Azotando puertas y ventanas,
Rompiendo los cristales y manchando los tapetes.

Lo he clasificado, como todo en mi vida.
Será la herida que late, el dolor constante,
La mirada distante de un amigo,
La piel magnética de un desconocido.

El abrazo siempre seguro,
Las palabras nunca dichas.
Un memoria, un pedacito de nube,
Una semilla en las historias que plantaré.

No quiero decir más.
Me muerdo los labios mientras se va de nuevo.
Rogándole a la vida que lo deje lejos,
Que lo detenga en la puerta si es que vuelve.

Qué se valla. Qué se quede.
Qué me diga que me quiere. Qué se olvide que existo.

Ya me ha dejado antes, cuando tenía 8 y le hablé por primera vez.
Ahí también me escondí de él, la única vez que él se escondió de mí.
Cuando tenía 10 lo esperé en la puerta, sentada junto al aire y el garrafón de agua.
Años sin verte cariño, he olvidado tu cara, ¿nada te recuerda a mí?
Y todas las caras que tomaste por años, sólo dos semanas a la vez.
Y todos los nombres que me olvidaron, los que nunca se enteraron. ¿Para qué?
Me quedan sus fotografías en cajas de cartón, imágenes intangibles en el alma llenas de ilusión.
Y a los que quise más. A los que alejé con palabras de verdad.
A los que nunca quise dejar, a los que nunca quiero olvidar.

Enamorada del aire. No. Enamorada de él.
De la idea de él. Del que me deja siempre, del que me escondo cada vez.

No sé que más decir.


-Me guardo tu recuerdo como el mejor secreto….siempre me quedará la voz suave del mar-
Bebe- Siempre me quedara

Cute Stuff

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Invictus- William Ernest Henley

Las cosas raras de la vida

Hoy pasó algo gracioso, lo es por que ya son las 5:34 de la tarde y me puedo de alguna manera reir. Mi mamá me corrió de la casa... si bueno, me dijo "no quiero verte la cara y vete ya¡¡" así que me fui a bañar, eran las 11 de la mañana y ya había limpiado mi cuarto, el cuarto de arriba, la cocina y tendido mi cama. Pero al parcer esas cosas no son muy importantes en cuanto a la limpiaeza y armonía de la casa, sólo sirven para un estar gritando un día entero "¿Por qué no limpias tu cuarto?¡, si no lo haces no sales mañana, con nadie¡¡"..
En fín, podría haberme ido, enserio, digo, tenía permiso, no?
Pero como que no tenía adonde ir sin perderme, o llegar si avisar, además sólo me imagino como me hubiera ido.
Bueno, fue todo, me di cuenta que a las personas mayores de 50 les deberían de dar prozac revuelto en el café, no es broma¡ cada día duermen menos y se alteran con más facilidad. Mientras que ella hablaba con su mamá por teléfono le dijo "tan siquiera tienes compañía, yo aquí estoy llorando mi soledad" y es verdad que se veía triste desde que desperto, con la voz media quebrada y demás, pero le dije, estás enojada? y ella dijo !no¡ lo uqe me parece una total mentira, talvez si hablara un poco menos sola en voz alta la gente empezaría a creer lo uqe dice.
ok, ya me callo.
Foto bonita¡¡ thanks cuz.. es super fashion¡


-Don't worry, at least you'll never be a vegetable. Even artichokes have hearts- Amelie

Pic by- Motocchio @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/motofoto/114713046/

Talking mirrors...

I have a friend with issues. She breaks down too easily and hates herself for who she is. She never talks on the right time, but she tries to keep a smile on her face. She thinks that alone its way to hard to do. Today she screamed at me, she raised her hands and fist and threw punches out into the nothing, into no one. Today she hated him. I know cause she told me, she said “I have a problem” and I nodded and looked back at her like I always do. She has a problem cause she openned herself way too fast, she could have avoided all of this, she didn't. She wasn’t happy, and she should have been; she complains too much and never takes a side. She could stay alone in room and feel lonely, and still it wouldn’t hurt her as much as being with her friends. She loves them so much and pretends to never notice when even for them she is too much. Too much of a burden, a bother, too silly and simple and …. She could go on and on, but then she feels like crying and trouble start again. She can’t really cry and she feels at her worst when she can’t. There is nothing more than a tear here or there, that’s all. Today she hated him so much. And she could have told him, she could have tried, she could have taken a side and done something. She could have raised her voice and said it aloud. She could have whispered that she was feeling, that she was stupid, that she cared more than she should. But he didn¡t looked at her, and all the things her eyes could have said where gone with a glimse of ice.
She could have yelled at him, demanded and answer on why he had walked. If only he hadn’t walked. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so broken and out of place. Maybe she would wake up tomorrow early; I know she’ll sleep more than she should. Maybe she won’t, maybe tomorrow she’ll wake up, look in the mirror at herself and see what I can see. She’s got issues, she knows…

Nuevo Look

¿Quién diría que m pondría a ver códigos y a cambiar colores? jeje, es muy divertido, pero me revolví un poco con unos números y pues quedo todo naranja, ni modo, es uqe ya no ecuentro donde se cambiaba el fondo... pero está chistoso, además, es mejor leer negro sobre naranja que negro sobre blanco, es para el beneficio de todos y sus ojos jaja.
Bueno, a ver si después puedo termianr de arreglarlo por que quedaron cosas raras que no pude cambiar.
Se cuidan¡¡

Your melody your song

By Jasinsky @ http://www.deviantart.com/print/420/
There are some pretty beautiful things at his pritns...

Closing Time...

Te conozco tan bien y tan poco
Que he aprendido a saberte desde lejos,
A verte con los ojos cerrados
Y a extrañarte aún cuando estás a mí lado.

Tus palabras llegaron a mí alma
Tus manos se llevaron de mis sentidos la inocencia
Tus caricias me hicieron temblar
Tu ausencia me hizo llorar.

Entre risas y llantos me retaste
También por ti he cambiado
Aprendí a dejarme llevar
A darte todo sin darte nada.
A dejar la razón en la puerta.

Los sueños los compartimos,
El futuro juntos lo inventamos,
Historias y vidas creamos
Pensando que algún día llegaríamos adonde fuera necesario.

Me gustaría pensar que fui algo más,
No quisiera saberme fácilmente desplazada, aunque lo seré;
Me dejarás atrás y yo seguiré adelante
Por que la vida pasa, por que somos desechables.

No sabía que me gustará el fuego de canela
Me dejé quemar, y espero haberte quemado a ti,
Por que lo creas o no, somos fuego delimitado
Y sabía arder antes de ti.

Me gusta perderme en las conversaciones sin palabras
En los ojos que me hacen reír
En las manos siempre ocupadas
En la mente llena de soluciones y preguntas.

No debiste habérmelo prohibido;
Todo es más dulce cuando no es mío.
Lo entendí bien el día que empecé a echarte de menos.
Cuando te vi en mi espejo.

Me dejaste. Te dejé.
Por que es mejor moverse que estar quieta
Por que las explosiones matan.
¿Sabes qué no me quiero despedir?
Extrañaré tu voz, tu sonrisa, tu mirada.
Te extrañaré a ti. Nos extrañaré.

No te culpo, yo haría lo mismo.
Es sólo que me acostumbre a ti
Y ahora no quiero dejarte ir.
Si lo hubiera sabido, lo hubiera detenido en un principio
No seré yo la que deje de participar.
No seré yo la que dejará de volar.

Ahora volvemos al juego, al fuego.
A reír por sentir, a ser frágiles.
Volvemos a ser agua que corre
Si nos estancamos nos lastimamos.

Te quiero… fue tu corazón el primero que sentí latir.

Tú lo dijiste, yo asentí
Cariño, te pareces tanto a mí
Que no entiendo como caí.


-Si a eso llamas tú amor.. mejor permiteme reirme- Rocio Dulcar

Tomorrow...

I may be a cry baby, but not many things make me cry. I was in a restaurant and there was a group of loud women talking and laughing and just being there. And I thought that, well, maybe in 15 or 20 years we will be like that. People who seems to have a rooted friendship, and I said that to my dad, and he said well yeah, and I said, I hope so.
Because I do.
I want to be in place and have people look at us because we are loud and having fun and thinking about now and yesterday and tomorrow… I want us all to be happy, and it really goes to all my friends, from one school or the other I don’t ever want to miss a dinner or forget about us or think that faking a birthday is a cheap way to get desserts.
I don’t ever want to think that we are being to loud, because that would just be us being us and loving each second of it.