The other side

 I. Interlude

I had a dream, I woke up in the backyard, wrapped in sharp & pointed branches & the easiest way to escape was to cross to the other side of the yard. When I came out, I could see a big white house & a shadow of a man standing in the window. As the days go by, my dream repeats itself, but the silhouette of the man is becoming more & more clear-cut.

II. Prison

My head in a bag, I passed out. 

III. Conception 

Now I'm inside of the big white house, I can look out the window, but I can't get out. I can scream but, I can't hear my voice. I feel like in a bottom of deep ocean, no light, no sound, except of him.

Him has a routine, so quiet, & don't notice me, but sometimes is in my back, & I can't move, his cold could break my bones. 

He can become like another person, expressions & his movements change, & it doesn't matter if I run, or if I can hide, he always find me, face to face, catch you: he says.

Now, I understand, he knows me.

IV. Departure

While I was standing in front of the window, I touched the glass & it was warm, so many memories came to me, of what it was, freedom. So far away, caged, I let it go all this, all that I was, & all I had, I dreamed of being wind, I run & run, my steps every time become more heavy, but I don't stop, he's coming after to me, I can hear his light footsteps, & now, I have it. Lighters. 

When I burn myself, I woke, in my backyard & in the other side, the big white house, it wasn't there.

Dedicated to people suffering from depression, with love: M.

ShitHole

Never be me.

In the last call, hurt most.

Sometimes, something happen, & happen & happens again. But you don't normalize it & it questions you, ma-maybe that I wanted is impossible, I don't know, but. 

The thing is this: If you man for a minute puts you in second for another woman., every time it happens I think, never be me. And you blame biology, society, religion, perception, freedom, not matter what it is, that isn't right & never will be. Probably when you realize that, it's most likely late. 

And all this time running together, feel like splinters on the tongue because even if you explain it, never knows how you feel, then, stop saying it. 

.

.

.

Reader, u know the final_________________. 

You take the last call, & hurts you most. M

Red Cherry

 Part II

''In general, respiration is nothing more than a slow combustion of carbon and hydrogen, wich is completely similar to that produced in a lamp or a candle that illuminates and, from that point of view, animals that breathe are combustible bodies that they burn and consume themselves''. Lavosier

We live in a modernism world/ outdate

involved in a foul game

red cherry

red sex

privacy is dead.

Awake, you're not weak. M

Red cherry

                            

                               Part I.

Women aren't weak.

I have seen many women get up after giving a birth,

after being hit over & over again,

raped,

separated from their children,

prostituted

We were burned for working,

hidden for learn,

displaced for speaking,

killed for fighting,.

because from eden we were pointed by sin,

manipulated to think that it was all our fault.

They're still keep tightening the rope, it isn't finish yet

& neither do we. 

Women aren't weak. M 

---------------------------------------------------------

Women aren't weak.

He visto a muchas mujeres levantarse después de dar a luz,

después de ser una y otra vez golpeadas,

violadas,

separadas de sus hijos,

& prostituidas.

Fuimos quemadas por trabajar,

escondidas por aprender,

desplazadas por hablar,

& asesinadas por luchar.,

porque desde el edén fuimos señalas por el pecado

manipuladas para pensar que todo ha sido nuestra culpa.

 Siguen apretando la soga, aún no ha terminado

& nosotras tampoco. 

Women aren't weak. M 

My room's ghosts

3. La Fille

I don't have story of her

hides behind curtains

you can see the tips of their little shoes

she appears only in the night

I never had the guts for uncover the window 

but when the kid hidding, something else was close. M

contagium vivum fluidum

Where are souls go?

Clean & fresh water come down the river 
it when does stop? 
I think it doesn't, if you turning back, 

only water you will look, endless.

And it started with tiny drop, hard to find.

Living, it's easy to get used to, but not for the last lock eyes.

There is a question that I liked to ask myself, 

before arriving home. 

That question is, are you ready for die?,

 if the answer is no, must do it best.
 

When I see her eyes, I can perceive that illusion of seeing him enter. My mom's eyes. And He will. With love. M 

In memory for my stepfather, 
July 9, 1955 - November 2, 2020.

My room's ghosts

2 Knocks of the closet 

Likes to give you nightmares,

you rarely see her in the day or speaks

but in the night, when all go at sleep 

you will hear toc toc from inside the closet.