In-the-middle of nowhere.

where love is not giving up nor staying is just waiting, old proverb promise what's your cannot miss u, and here I am unbalance by your absence everyday.

I wish I could say that I'm over it, except in my wildest dreams you'd always find a way to apologize and come back to me. As if the biggest mistake in your life wasn't staying so long but leaving me breathless after loving us so much more.

There's this verse that says I talk to the ghosts each day, but they have nothing new to say, they're always haunted by the same stories. Thought our memories became my favorite supercut to rewatch like a comfort show begging me to trying to remember it all, don't allow to miss a single piece, a single conversation, a single sound, or touch, is inevitable to see on the other side of the line there's a voice that never calls back.

I'm still haunted by you, like that story where shatter in pieces tells the more I tried to fix you there more I cut myself, I heal you, then you left and I was left there wondering which part belong to me and which ones belong to you.

Me puedes decir no jalo a tus mamadas y yo te puedo decir al chile aquí te mamaste, y solo nos brillan los ojitos y nos reímos confidencialmente porque sabemos perfectamente que tan culeros somos y a quien tenemos enfrente. No es gran cosa decir que me gustas porque puedo ser honesta, como si no fuera la levedad de la falta de tacto lo que genera ese Rush dopamínico de confianza, jamás se ha tratado de las connotaciones sociales predefinidas sino del significado que les damos, y si me lo dices no estás buscando que me duela. Es más divertido ser tu mismo, cuando puedes decir lo que piensas sin que se mal entienda.

Y justo ahora necesito mudarme a una piel más auténtica, una yo que dice lo que piensa que no oscila entre oraciones para aclarar la incomodidad, que no pierde el tiempo en detalles.

En tu mundo mentar madres no es agresivo, la burla es cercanía, el insulto es consejo, la verdad es liviana, como cuando me abrazas por detrás de la cintura y me susurras mamadas al oído, y yo me quedo ahí riendo porque me gusta la sensación, o nos abrazamos mientras caminamos y platicamos porque tuvimos un buen día, o dices ups cuando te encuentro en prendas menores y a cambio me cambio de outfit para que me mires y me digas que me queda mejor, o cuando te lleno de brillos la cara y el coche y pretendes molestarte mientras tus amigos bromean diciendo que voy super producida aunque ambos sabemos discretamente que te gusta que me tome tanto tiempo en arreglarme y verme bonita, creo que así te dan más ganas de acercarte y decirme eres mía, y pretender al otro día que el alcohol estaba haciendo sus efectos y no recuerdas de nuevo, solo para ver que tanto omito del momento.

Even on the mornings when I don't feel like drinking it, I still manage to pour myself another cup, and so it goes.

The table, the breakfast, the ted talk, the hot berbage, the ticking clock, the silence, the love.

There's no tiny cracks at the bottom, just one sip and it overboards.

Like then when you tasted me for my sweetness and warm, although you would rather drink your coffee straight, leaving me bitter cause you never wanted to stay.

But you just needed to have me, you couldn't just left it there, we both are coffee lovers and sometimes addicts I might explain.

Is not the caffeine but the absence of it that gets us on edge, cause it was never the loving feeling but the compromise that took you away.

Is easier to mirror yourself in the coffee pot than it is on an empty mug. You spill in drops, until the whole thing claims a spot, you sip right through my memories, no matter how careful I'll try to be, it feels like there's no way it'll stay clean.