Según la psicóloga, es parte del proceso, pero siento que llevo mil años en el proceso. 
Al menos mañana termino Kine, y es un cacho menos. 

 Asco me doy, así de simple.

Break the chain.

Quizás diría algo como que la pega es harta y que estudiar lo tiene cansado. Y yo diría lo mismo, que el tiempo es poco pero que quiero poner de mi parte. Y quizás el respondería que el también, y me daría esperanzas.

Y quizás de verdad sean flores esta vez y no solo mensajes sin leer. Y quizás el tiempo ponga un stop en ese momento y me deje con la sensación de querer más.

Puede ser que sea la primavera más bella y que se venga un verano maravilloso. Que navidad y año nuevo sean completamente disfrutables.

Pongo toda mi ilusión, toda mi esperanza, en que se rompa el ciclo...

Things

Hoy se cumple un mes desde el accidente, curioso como pasa el tiempo, parece ayer el momento en que el dolor era tanto que mi vista se nublaba. Ya no tengo mucho que decir, mañana finalmente me sacaran los retenedores y veré si pierdo mis dientes o no.

Tengo miedo, y es natural este miedo. Pero he perdido muchas cosas, y estas están tan fuera de mi control que me arde el alma. Es como si me arrebataran pedazos de mi, granitos de mi.

No quiero seguir perdiendo tiempo, y definitivamente no quiero que mi cuerpo pase por más dolor.

Creo que ya tuve suficiente...

Time stands still

Pastillas y pastillas,

nada parece ser tan doloroso,

ni tan real.
A veces siento que floto sobre nubes,
y las voces de mi cabeza parecen silenciarse.

En la oscuridad de la noche
se me olvidan los sermones,
la culpabilidad se aleja y sale a pasear.
El taciturno frío nocturno
me da horas de complicidad.
La soledad parece ser un premio
ahora que todos duermen,
y la privacidad, un privilegio
que de a poco vuelvo a ganar.

De vez en cuando tu recuerdo viene a visitarme,
se sienta a los pies de la cama y no dice nada.
Está ahí, sin hacer ruido,
y solo se ve si entrecierro los ojos.
No puedo perder tiempo en hablarle:
no es momento de levantar muertos.
Ya he navegado muy lejos para buscarte,
y he perdonado a todos mis fantasmas.

El dolor constante terminó siendo mi amigo,
las lágrimas que no cesan, una marca personal.
Mi cumpleaños pasó saltando frente a mí,
llamando mi atención
y recordándome que sí,
estoy viva…
y pude no haber cumplido más años.

Minutes

Vuelve, me digo bajito.

Vuelve, lo digo en mi mente.

Vuelve, lo digo cruzando los dedos.

Sé que tu presencia era lo mismo que estar sola, pero al menos te tenía.

Pedazos de ti, pero te tenía.

En todo momento pienso en ti.

Sueño con el momento en que te abrace de nuevo,

con el momento en que pueda sentir otra vez tu calor,

otra vez tu aroma,

otra vez tú.

Sé que pido imposibles.

Sé que no pasará.

Sé que yo siempre pierdo.

Sé que siempre se aprovechan de mí.

Pero al menos mi sinceridad es inmensa.

Estoy cansada.

Mis ojos pesan,

y lo único que veo cuando los cierro eres tú.

Cuánto extraño dormir en tus brazos,

estar ahí, pequeña, protegida, sintiendo que quizás podría valer algo para ti.

Pero nuevamente solo estoy soñando, como siempre,

una soñadora.

Aun con la cadera rota,

con las rodillas heridas,

las manos adoloridas,

mi labio abierto,

mis dientes quebrados,

con todo eso,

sigues siendo mi mayor pena.

Cuando mi única prioridad debería ser yo 

—ironía—

nuevamente me dejo de lado,

aún cuando sigo sangrando...

Martes 16 de Septiembre

Nunca creí que me pasaría esto, el momento en el que el auto me golpeó y mi cuerpo saltó lejos sigue atormentándome. La sangre en mis manos, la voz del conductor llamando a urgencias diciendo que había atropellado a una niña, mientras el dolor que me recorría era insoportable y se me apretaba el pecho.

Luego los ojos de los bomberos, el rostro de mi padre y la sonrisa de mi hermana con los ojos llorosos diciéndome que todo iba a estar bien.

Tuve tanto dolor, tanto miedo, que momentáneamente creí que si me dormía se terminaba todo.

Curioso como hoy escribo de esto, desde la comodidad de mi cama, después de estar hospitalizada.

Se me van a seguir repitiendo aquellas imágenes un tiempo.

A pesar de los dientes chuecos, de la nariz hinchada, de la pelvis fracturada, de mis rodillas magulladas y un cuerpo porfiado que a veces no responde.

Estoy viva, sobreviví, y por sobre todo, sobreviví a mi propia mente que en un momento lleno de dolor, solo quería dormir...

I feel so replaceable.

Did I ever exist?

Did I ever mean anything?

Ashes

I miss you so much
that for a moment
it feels like I’ll lose all my self control
and run to find you.

I miss you so much
that my voice seems to know only one word
your name.

I miss you so much
that dreaming of you
is the only thing that makes me happy.

I miss you so much
that my insides burn
at the thought
that I can’t have you.

I miss you so much
that my hands ache,
because all they want
is to write to you.

I miss you so much
that my tears
taste like you.

But it’s only me,
missing
the version of you I fell in love with
the version that no longer exists.

Nothingness

I was having fun,
I was laughing and smoking,
and all of a sudden,
I wished you were there,
having fun with me.

And all of a sudden,
I wanted to see you smile,
because I used to love your smile.

What a stupid thought,
wanting you near me,
when now we are nothing to each other.
Or maybe…
I was always nothing.

Nightmare

I know you are in the next room,
and I can't stop thinking about you.
While my teacher talks and talks about any subject,
my mind drags me into thoughts I don’t want to have.

I’m smoking again, you know.
The last crisis didn’t pass without a cigarette.
And I know you don’t care,
but my fingers ache from the so many times
I’ve wanted to write you.

Yeah, yeah, 'it’s gonna pass,' they say,
but right now it feels so unbearable to live.
How can time pass more quickly?

I wish I could sleep until September ends,
like that Green Day song.
Wake me when this sorrow passes,
when your name no longer tastes like bitterness,
when seeing you doesn’t make me want to vomit.

Wake me then
when all this nightmare ends.
Wake me and tell me it was all a dream,
and that we are still together,
fighting our own battles,
but still together.

Just let me dream a little more...

Tender sleeplessness

We will never go to the beach,
and I will never tell you that I love you with the sound of the waves as a soundtrack.

We will never watch the movies I wrote,
and I will never fall asleep in your arms again.

We will never play Catan with my sister again,
and you will never get angry again because of the 'sister alliance'

We will never listen to Ghost in the car again,
and I will never sing softly enjoying the music, but even more, your company.

We will never play COD ,
and I will never try to make you laugh again with stupid things.

I will never kiss your lips again,
or try to savor every fiber of your being.

We will never hear your mother again,
or laugh about her anecdotes.

We will never talk about things again,
and I will never listen to you quietly while imagining every word you’re saying.

We will never breathe the same air,
we will never moan in the same room again.

And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe I can learn to forget you
even when my heart cries your name out loud.

I can learn to forget you.
And when some time passes,
I will live my life as if everything is normal,
but my heart will still ache
because you were the one I wanted.

And I decided to leave.

I decided to leave...

Even with all the love still in my hands,
I understood that before holding him,
I had to hold myself.
It was not a lack of love, nor of care,
it was the certainty that my life was asking me
to protect myself first...

Raw

A part of me hates him,
like, why didn’t you fight for me?
You are never going to find someone better than me,
you pathetic piece of shit.

And then I think
but why would I want someone so nothing to choose me?
And then I only pity him,
because he has made so many mistakes in his life,
and now he is paying for them all.

Last seconds

Y yo estaba ahí llorando, con el corazón en la mano.

Y el saco el celular...

Como si yo no existiera...

Como si mi llanto lo incomodara...

Y eso fue lo último que pude decir de nosotros. 

Stop breathing.

 A veces siento que olvido respirar
como si estuviera constantemente bajo el agua,
como si mis pulmones ya no funcionaran,
como si toda la vida se me escapara en un segundo.

Creí que eras mi oxigeno,
pero contigo solo se me apretaba el pecho aun más,
creí que eras mi alimento,
pero contigo solo podía vomitar.

Y aún entre tanto dolor,
me dan ganas de fantasear que me hablas y me dices que arreglemos esto,
que aun podemos salir adelante,
que todavía valemos algo.
Aún con el ghosting,
aún con el vinculo que llevaba yo sola,
aún con todo eso,
pareciera que lo sigo anhelando.

Que cerebro mas retorcido,
que corazón tan obsesionado con el dolor,
que culpa tengo yo,
que he hecho tan mal,
necesito dejar de respirar,
no es justo,
simplemente no es justo. 

Post it babe

My eyes are sore,

I’m so tired of crying.

So sick of this,

So sick of me.

’Cause I’m the only one to blame,

No one but me.

I gave second chances,

I tried to fix things.

I wanted to take care of bonds,

But I was also a dreamer.

Maybe I shouldn’t blame myself for being a dreamer,

Because what is made with love

Brings love back

Or at least that's what I want to believe,

So this won’t be so painful...

I used to

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que pensaba que solo mis pulmones se llenarían con el oxígeno que tu exhalabas.

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que mi belleza solo tendría sentido si eras tu quien la apreciaba.

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que podría haberme convertido en polvo si dejabas de abrazarme.

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que disfracé mis verdaderos sentimientos una y mil veces para no volver a herirte.

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que deje que me hirieras una y mil veces con tal de mantenerte a salvo.

Solía hacerlo tanto tanto,

que teniendo tanta rabia y pena encima ni siquiera pude odiarte.

Y todo eso me destruyó,
y todo eso se me encerró en el pecho y comenzó a asfixiarme,
y todo eso nunca llego a un puerto.

Que fue tan magullado,

tan herido,

que hablar de el,

debería estar prohibido.

No quiero volver a aquello

es más, acepto que no puedo hacerlo otra vez.

Prefiero tener un corazón vacío, a volver a ser la que se desvive, y no puede vivir.  

Sharpener

It stung,
like little bees crawling on my skin.
It burned,
like the ashes of the cigarettes I've smoked.
It bled,
tiny red drops of nothingness and hollowness.

But it felt good.
It let me breathe.
In all,
I was alive
crying, suffering, lingering in death and life,
but still, painfully alive.

Old Buildings

The scent of old stone fills my lungs,
echoes of footsteps threading the hallways
in patterns worn thin by time.

I open my eyes slowly
shapes dissolve into meaning.
Ideas, paragraphs, erased words, pure poems
I let them go,
believing they were no longer needed.
But I was wrong.

Somewhere in my chest,
language still rises with my breath.
Pain never made me write,
and joy
joy has always lived in my imagination.

This world feels hollow
studying, working, worrying
never enough time for love.
Capitalism crushes it,
renders it an afterthought.

And my love?
Lost at sea,
where even the drowning seem divine,
like the last words you gave me
beautiful,
and only half true.

There is something still there.
And I...
I am the blind

Discarded

Kind of funny how the story repeats itself,
even when I try to get away from all the patterns,
I'm here again, spinning in my own destruction.

I know, I know,
I tried to save a dog again,
and it just bit me hard.

I can't save anyone.
There were too many red flags I didn't want to see,
because of love.

Love that was not worth it,
love that was wasted,
love that was discarded like garbage.

And it's even funnier to know that he's never going to learn from his mistakes,
from his narcissism,
from his ego.
Well... just let it be.

Special star

Vibrating in my chest,

soft breathing, soft heartbeats.

Listen to me, I’m whispering.

A tranquil river flows in its own stream,

praying to the goddess of water,

calming my heart, freezing my words.

I believe in my dream as I believe in your future.

Can you ease my restless sorrow?

Listen to me, I’m whispering.

Like windmills standing still, even in storms,

I pray to the god of wind

bringer of peace, the air I breathe.

It places a hand on my back, gently pushing me forward.

Listen to me, I’m whispering.

Where will you wander? Where will you sleep?

The earth trembles, the sea rises.

We made our promises as if they were sacred,

but the end always feels near.

I pray to the god of war,

resonating with my darkness,

founder of tears and fears,

longing to shield you from it all.

Still, I see your happiness as something worth protecting.

Your memory beats in my mind

behind my eyes, I see your smile.

Even when you have no words,

I’d break the world just to hear your laughter.

It’s like rewarding my weary soul

with stars from conquered skies.

With you, my little star, my final hope.

Listen to me, let me lay you to sleep.

Rest, as my whispers fade to silence,

turning into prayers,

asking all the gods to protect you

the pure soul that cleanses my sins.

Creo que lo más triste de todo es que no puedo decir lo triste que estoy a nadie porque no quiero ser juzgada.

Magic tea

 S went to the restroom, leaving me alone with M.
“What else?” he asked.

I told him about the time I thought he would get angry and yell at me, but he didn’t. He stayed calm, fixing the situation and telling me not to worry. I confessed how scared I’d been, bracing myself for the outburst I was certain would come... like my dad or more like my ex.

M smiled, that reassuring smile a friend gives when you need it most.
“I’m so happy you ended that relationship,” he said. “You’re not made to receive crumbs.”

I shared how difficult it is to have a brain wired for constant vigilance, always expecting the worst, always on edge. He smiled again, softer this time, and I found myself smiling back.

In that moment, I felt a flicker of hope, knowing I could change my thoughts, rewire my brain, and create a healthy, beautiful relationship.

Control.
All I need is control.

Blistering Suns

 It succumbs to the power of the night,
where waiting feels like desperation.
With clouded thoughts and a restless heart,
it surrenders to the deepest darkness
every bone, every nerve, every fragment of flesh
offered freely, willingly.

It dances dangerously at the edge of madness,
eyes burning with blistering suns.
Spiders lurking in every corner,
waiting for their turn to move,
watching the knight in shining armor save the day.

Its scent, a mix of sweat and the sweetest perfume in the world
viciously inhaling life in mere seconds.
Still whispering apologies for sins long past,
strange how twilight found it naked again.

Breaching every limit to reach the pleasure,
and the pain, welcomed as an old friend.
Soft skin, soft hair, entangled in little fingers,
obsessed with the touch of the soul,
the merging of souls.

Almost welcoming the desire to die tonight
if only in those arms...

The ultimate parley

I talked with Saturn last night.

I told it how I ran free in those fields,

how it grew inside me when I thought it couldn’t expand further.

I told it how I embrace so tightly that my arms ache for reassurance,

how my tears turn pure, refracting light into prismatic angles.

And it didn’t answer...

I talked with Venus this morning.
I told it about those eyes and those sighs 
so unreal in their beauty.
I told it how I would ruin the world just to see them, 
how I would tear apart every fiber of my being
if it meant keeping their light from dimming.
I told it how my soul reverberates with pure joy
at the mere scent of that other soul.
And it didn’t answer...

Now, I’m talking with Death.
I’m telling it how I will fight.
I’m telling it how I will protect what is precious to me.
I say, loud and clear, that I will never give up.
I could disappear,
return to the womb that birthed me,
seek peace in my solitude
sleep in my dark space
but in the end, I always win my battles.

I thought about giving up for a moment.
But I am a thousand times stronger than that.

And this time, I got an answer.

"You keep on fighting, but at some point, you will dance with me," it said.

But for now
the l word is my shield.
That expression, my sword.
And my strength? That’s mine...

Ceiling's weight

I looked at my cellphone as another reel passed by.
The sound of the clock had half my attention,
the hum of the fan had the other.

My body sat gracelessly on the couch,
bare feet resting on a pillow,
hair cascading freely down my back.

I wanted to smoke so badly that I clenched my teeth.
My gaze drifted to the ceiling,
my head falling back against the couch with no resistance.
A sigh escaped my lips, and I closed my eyes.

My mind was so loud that everything else went numb
the phone, the ceiling, the clock.
Why do thoughts scream the loudest when silence is suffocating?

It was 3 AM.
At that hour, nothing feels sacred.
Nothing is black or white.
Nothing is good or wrong.

Was I always this clueless?
I used to hate messy, clumsy people.
But now I realize I’m clumsy as fuck.
Do we hate what we are?

I wanted to wave goodbye to all the things that bothered me,
all the things about myself that bothered me.
Guilt crept in again, the familiar weight of being "bad."
Was I always sabotaging the good in my life,
or is this a new trait?

But then his words made sense
I don’t own all the responsibility.
I don’t own all the blame.

I own my anxiety, my feelings, my erratic actions
always wanting to escape sensations I don’t like,
always wanting to run from what could harm me.

Maybe I will always be a coward,
running from everything,
avoiding people, avoiding consequences.
Maybe I’m just that sick.

Well, you can take another shot,
and I’ll keep working on myself like I always do.
But for the first time,
I don’t want to be the one to decide.

Hahahan't

I stopped crying when I realized I was being too harsh on myself.

I don’t think I’m the one to blame.

I don’t think there’s any blame to place at all.

Supposedly, we should be able to talk about anything

but I think that’s not the case.

Why do I feel so insecure?

I think about the others in your past

how perfect they must have been,

how skinny, how beautiful,

how good in bed,

with no eating disorders,

no anxiety

and it breaks my heart.

I know I’m the problem.

I know how broken I am.

And just thinking about how much work I’ve done,

only to feel like I’m back at the same place...

It just makes me feel like garbage.

It’s not you.

It’s just my fucked-up brain.

I just need a hug and to hear that everything's going to be ok.