Au revoir mon amour, et merci.

Maybe everyone does this.

Whenever I go somewhere new I trace the streets
looking for traces of familiar ground
tracing, tracing.
I thought maybe
it’s because I’m a traveler
and we trace pathways
Like a map of our lives,
we trace our fingers and eyes
on the canvas of the streets
and the skins of people
writing our story
looking for home
or
maybe running away from it
Though aren’t both things
just the same?

II.

When I saw you for the first time
you looked brand new
unfamiliar
like a song I’d never heard before
but also one that would be easy to forget
every time I looked at you
it was like the first time like
I never got quite used to seeing your face
even if it looked so good
next to mine
it never looked like     it really            belonged                there anyway
How funny it is to me now
how mad I got
when you forgot the song as well
how arrogant I was
and infantile

III.
We said it all along
we knew it all along
We bet against ourselves
we weren’t surprised when it ended
I wasn’t shocked when it was over.
The guillotining of my heart
was perhaps cold and sudden
but a sick heart
is sometimes best
when
replaced

IV.

I traced your face so many times
over and over
not wanting to forget
trying to memorize you
trying to map you
so that I could always
close my eyes
and still see your beautiful face.

Thank God I failed.

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La historia entre tus dedos

Parte 1 – Dolor Ajeno

Tartamudeando en llantos
las letras de cada cancion
Que deletrea mi nombre;
Mi feminidad, mis senos, mi cuerpo, el ser mujer,
queda encerrado en mi vientre.
Encadenado en el mundo en el que me he metido
pensando que podria hacerlo
poque te tendria a ti.
Tercera persona pluraL.
El titulo de la historia de tu & yo
en tu cabello
que se fue terminando con cada corte
de tijeras ajenas.
El veneno,
de la falta de “in”
cuando dices “love”
Las promesas rotas
Y mentiras repetidas del
abandono constante
en la exagereacion de tu ausencia.
Y ahora entiendo,
No falle yo.
Fallaste tu.
No fui yo la impaciente.
Fuiste tu.
Entrego mis alas de santa,
y las cambio por la paz del olvido de tu nombre.
De la misma manera que tu cambiaste mi corona
Por una puta ordinaria.
Entrego mi humildad
por la oportunidad de
desmancharme de ti.
Pensaba que era una epoca.
Una “phase”. Y lo fue. EL “phase out” de mi.
Y mis costillas que salen por mi pecho?
Y la sangre eterna que fluye de mi corazon?
Y las piedras que vomito cada mañana que no estas?
Las utilizare
para hacer
Una corona
mas grande
una capa
las gruesa
Una armadura
mas fuerte
Y abandonando el reino que habia construido en ti
Escupire en el suelo,
para que quede limpio de ti.

Parte 2 – Engatusar

“You cant make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying and strange and beautiful, something not everyone knows how to love.”

“Es mejor tener con quien pasar los domingos, que los viernes.”

“My heart is not a home for cowards”

“Algunas mujeres saben amar, otras saben a rio” Ella es el rio y yo soy el mar, y preferiste beber, a aprender a nadar.

Part 3 – Las cosas que dijimos

He dicho
“vengo de la luna,
amame.
Soy extraterrestre.
Me dijiste te cuido.
Me dijiste te amo.
Me dijiste me quedo.
Y no te quise creer
porque a la gente no hay que creerle 
cuando te dicen
“para siempre.”
Y ahora tengo que escoger
entre vivir con tu olvido
y respirar vidrio
con cada hilo de recuerdo
que cosiste en mi vida
o matarte
a cuchillasos
sacar las espinas
de mi corazon
y vivir con el vacio
de tu ausencia.
Tal vez la razon
por la cual tengo
el corazon
tan
grande
es para poder vivir
con el, hecho pedazos.

Parte 4

Habia dicho que respiraria vidrio toda mi vida
por la falta de ti.
He decidio dejarme morir,
en vez de sentir tu ausencia otro dia.
Algun dia renacere, sere otra version de mi.
Tal vez mejor,
tal vez peor.
Pero mi unico interes,

 es que sea una versión 

Completamente limpia de ti

I think sometimes I hide (a cat wrote this)

I think sometimes I hide.

While I expose myself belly up
Inviting you in with vulnerability
But if there’s one thing
every cat owner knows
It’s
Don’t abuse vulnerability.
I try to bring people in to my joy
Because sometimes they let me
And I live their joy too

And we’re in joy.
Together.

But other times I hide.
I’m not sure from who but it’s there, the opportunity to not be seen,
And I take it.

Because now it’s only about joy.

I spend a lot of time preparing myself
To find joy
Like it’s a
Scavenger hunt.

But actually
It’s more about
Sitting still

And letting joy come to you.
And I need to shut out the world from telling me what it’s supposed to look like.
You know.
“It”. (The joy)
So I hide. And just do It.

Learning and making mistakes
Is apparently
An intrinsic part
Of it

And then that joy
Becomes silent
Yet somehow
So much more
Profound.

And so instead of leaving myself belly up,
I am still. In hiding. Away from
The cold metallic sharp edges That
Sometimes come
With vulnerability

Good thing I have nine lives.