Wabi´s mind

i love you, i do

even though i don´t tell you anymore

even though you might not remember

i know it seems like i don´t

because i stopped wishing you happy birthdays

and i cross the street to avoid you when i see you

before you see me

it´s strange, i know

but i love you, i do

even though i never told you

even though you never knew

To live without feeling is not to live at all. Yes, they say that and yes, in some ways, I believe too. However, I also believe this a perfect ¨do as I say, not as I do¨ situation because, of course, we all know how vital feelings are, and yet we hide them. What for, really? Shame? Embarrassment? Aren´t those feelings as well?

I´m a hypocrite, of course, for I too live my life with my feelings locked inside a vault which keys have been lost far, far long ago. I claim to feel so much I´ve plead to God for a way out for; ´´in any moment, I could explode´´. Truly it does feel that way but it never does come out. For I claim to live my life to the fullest yet I hide my sadness, my fears, my anger, my love.

if only she was like the moon; cold, beautiful, solitary.

My mom often asks me why I don’t speak to her anymore, my friends wonder when I’ve become so quiet my sister doesn’t say anything but she gives the knowing look, waiting for me to tell her myself, my dad doesn’t bother

I don’t know, I don’t know how nor why But I feel as though…I feel as if dare I speak about it, as if dare I put it into word, dare I make it real The storm that’s been whaling inside me will destroy every dam I’ve built to protect my relationship from the never ending anguish river that flows within my veins

No raft nor arc will be sufficient to save the years and years of pretending I’ve managed to keep safe on the lands of my mind

No rainbow will be send over to those affected, promising it’ll never happen again, ringing sorrows and forgiveness. They won’t believe it, they know not too. They won’t pray to me, they pray for me, they won’t.

En el patio de mi casa

había una chica de ojos marrones

mirando los jazmines

intentó sostener el mundo en sus manos,

lo amó con tanta fuerza que olvidó su frágil naturaleza

Lloró con los pétalos en el suelo

y yo no pude ignorar su tristeza

Le ofrecí volverlos a plantar, juntas,

Dios, no me preguntes

No me preguntes por mis penas, Dios, porque mis penas no son con mis padres O mis hermanos O cualquier familia en absoluto

Mis penas son con este mundo En el cual no se puede confiar, ni amar Con este mundo que hiere a la tierra como si no fuera nuestra Llenándola de basura y mentiras, cargándola con lo que ellos mismos no quieren cargar

Por eso, Dios, si la tierra me pidiera que le diera un pedazo de mí Si ella tomara mi mano y dijera “Solo necesito un poco para sanar, niña. Un clavo, un pelo, una lágrima.”

Arrancaría mi corazón y lo plantaría como una semilla en su tierra Tendría cuidado de no ensuciar sus pies, de no enredar su cabello La miraría y diría Tómese el tiempo que sea necesario para que sus pies nunca vuelvan a sangrar

Don’t ask me about my sorrows, God, for my sorrows are not with my parents Or my siblings Or any family at all

My sorrows are at this world That can not be trusted nor loved With this world that hurts the earth as if she wasn’t our own

So, God, if the earth asked me to give her a piece of me If she held my hand and said I just need a bit to heal, child. A nail, a hair, a tear.

I’d carve my heart out and plant it like a seed I’d be careful not to befoul her feet I’d look at her and say Take as long as need for your feet to never bleed again