Tuesday, February 23, 2010

i'll vomit illusions
break the circle over again

please come into me
i want to scream you out

(la vez número mil
"sing with me"
significará algo diferente?)

if love is the only truth we live by then i think i'm not real

feel me,
feel me,
feel me

all i want to do is stay right next to you
while i turn into a ghost
"who am i going to be?"

you are but a shadow of my dreams
sometimes i just can't stay awake
and sometimes my body can't rest

it's all frozen and quiet
i'm here but i can't breathe
there's nothing in me
no blood no bones no skin
but i'm here

could i come back and start building my body
could i come back and build my soul
my eyes
could i come back and get to you
or decide that i don't need it at all

if love is the only truth we live by, well then i think
i can never die

swim with me
sink with me

right when i start making sense
that's when i feel more lost

(where is the line
between finding yourself and losing yourself
where is the line
between building yourself and destroying
everything you were)

you are but a shadow of my dreams
and i'll become a shadow too

i am the smoke and the ashes
"another part of me must die"
be forgotten

i ended so many lives
i've died a thousand times

but so much comes out of my mouth it's burning me empty

please come back into me
that way i think i could never die
i want to scream you out
so you become my voice
my breath
my death
and my fire

i said too much and i've lied again
my heart can't feel me

i try to reach you but my hands only meet the glass
that separates you from who you really are

it's gone again, everything but my conscience
no blood no lungs no heart
the room is shaking
it doesn't break me

i am forever alive
i think i couldn't die if i tried

you're the rain i see through my window
i'm the smoke,

i've left long ago.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

por qué no tengo lo que quiero, por qué quiero tanto, por qué me aburro de lo que quiero y de lo que tengo, por qué me duele querer y también me duele no querer y me duele todo, me duele tener y no entender y no entender por qué me duele ni qué me duele a veces, por qué me canso de preguntar, por qué las respuestas no son otra cosa, no son eternas, se desgastan, se rompen.