So blind

I’m stunned,

surprised like I haven’t been in a long time.

I usually tend to be quite apathetic about life,

or lean toward pessimism.

Today, I’m trying to decipher what I’m feeling.

I know I’m happy, 

but there’s something underneath,

something bothering me.

If this was what I wanted,

if I was so sure about it,

why am I doubting?

Maybe I’m just scared.

I thought this would never happen,

and I was ready to let go.

Well, let this settle in.

Let this grow.

We’re not alone anymore...

November rain

What a prophecy this is,

sent by signs I asked for a while ago.

The subway is quite empty, and it makes me doubt where I’m heading.

The calendar makes me doubt even more

counting days and weeks, feeling so hollow as time passes without shared teas.

Why is it cold again? Isn’t it November already?

Where is my summer, threatening to burn my skin?

Well, I’m always observing others,

an observer of pretty things,

but a protagonist of tragedies.

(Yeah, I read that in some meme.)

There are five stations more to go

before I arrive at my destination.

It seems I’m not dressed for the occasion, though.

The temperature has dropped more than I can handle with just a jacket, jeans, and a crop top.

What a lazy girl I am

too distracted to even check the weather.

My head has been in space all day.

ppp

Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

I know where I want to be

although impossible, I know what I want.

At least I’m not faking.

I’ve been honest about my inclinations.

People can say many things about me,

but never that I faked something.

I’m sleepy now.

The subway’s movement makes me drowsy.

Even with 12 hours of sleep, I still feel exhausted.

One station to go, and I’m freezing.

The couple kissing in front of me has already left,

leaving us without their presence.

They looked so happy.

An observer of happiness, that’s me.

I got up from my seat and went to the stairs,

heading to the streets,

where the sky was messy and wanted to cry.

Like I wanted to.

I felt anguished and didn’t know why.

Well, I did.

I was ashamed.

Every time I remembered that night, I felt so ashamed.

(I already wrote something else about that.)

But in that moment, I felt really bad.

I don’t know if I’m being played,

if I’m being lied to.

What’s the point of showing your true colors,

your true self, to someone you can’t trust?

It’s just stupid.

And with that thought, the rain started to fall

big, round drops,

clouding my glasses.

“I’m going to get sick again,” I thought.

But then I saw him.

In his brown car, with his pretty long hair, I saw him,

coming to me,

to my rescue.

I hurried to get in the car,

hiding from the cold and that November rain.

I smiled at him.

In that moment,

he was my savior.

Where the shivers End

It's cold again,
it seems winter doesn't want to back down,
but here between my hands,
it's still spring.

I used to ask the rain what Mondays in bed with its presence would be like,
and it used to answer me with silence.
Even now, after knowing the feeling of rain and coffee in bed,
all I want is the sun, burning sun on my skin.

I can feel it in my shoulders.
I’d choose this kind of fog to numb my sight,
to tell me that dinner is served
and that mischief is on the menu.

Spinning under the rain,
dreaming of warmth,
craving heat and hating the cold.
Honey, let it sink
and meet me where you can’t control the shivers.