Mes amours imaginaires

They swirl before my eyes
like them pink elephants
It's a parade, it's a show
Una novela, une émission.

Spin the wheel and let them come,
walking down the aisle,
each one his own.

He who jumps and kicks with me,
who sweats and screams then smiles at me.
He pokes me and giggles
and calls me his cat
He who loves me so, but I can't love back.

The silvery fox with the glint in his eye,
Who makes me laugh and moan, not cry.
He's fire, he's lust
He's honest, he's blunt
He whom I'd love, were his heart his own.

The virtual boy from across the sea,
By far the most beautiful creature I've seen.
He plays with me a fantasy role
A piece to remember, I always want more
To have him, to love him, to have my heart broken.

The dorky and breezy love,
Relentless waves that just won't give up
It's a date, we make love, I feel safe and let him know
We are together but we are not
He loves [the idea of] me.

Here comes my sun,
beautiful, lovable, utterly blond.
The right place at the wrong time,
I love him, he loves me back
Love him enough to stay back

Our love is a feeling,
a touch.
An idea, an obsession,
an unspoken word.

Were it but real.
Mes amours imaginaires...

Grounded

I'd climb to a cliff and scream till my voice ran out,

set sail to my words, little bonfires on the crests.

I'd wait to feel that thunderous roar,
an answered prayer, an echoing thunderbolt.

A slap of wind as it rushes through my skin,
wanes and withers to a caressing breeze.

I'd kneel and grasp the grass and earth,
feel the moistness, taint my nails.

I'm a tree against the backdrop of dark gathering clouds,
proud and grounded, nowhere to hide.

And before the storm breaks out,
before it turns the breeze to wrath,
silence explodes in the amethyst sky.

I call upon you once more,
and then I know you shall not come.

I welcome madness

Still the one

You're still the one who smacked me down
the one who turned my life inside out,
took my love, gave me a scar.

You're still that terrible, savage beast
that sweet playful bear rolling down the hill.

You're still the one who knows me best,
where to touch me, where to grasp
how to hurt me and make me cry.

You're still the one who broke my heart
the one who tore me up inside

You're still the one who fooled me twice
who stole my hope, my dreams, my time

You're still the one who torments my mind
the one who makes me curse this life

You're still the one
the one
you're still the one I love.

Ya No

Creo que ya no te amo.

Perdí el paraguas que me diste,
y ya no compro cereal con trozos de chocolate.

Tampoco veo los programas que veíamos,
ni voy a la panadería a comprar bizcochos.

Duermo en medio de la cama, con dos almohadas.
La que pongo bajo mi cabeza está celosa de la otra.

Creo que ya no te amo.

Pinté la puerta color vino,
y así dejé de beberlo.

Los besos que eran para ti no son de nadie,
se los regalo al viento y al pavimento.

Las risas que bailaban con las tuyas,
son ahora sentadillas y abdominales en el gimnasio.

Creo que ya no te amo.

Ya no sé aletear y he dejado de cantar
Y cada día se siente más normal.

El sol comienza a evaporar este gris invierno,
y con él tu recuerdo.

No volveré jamás a cruzar ese puente,
lo he borrado del mapa y con él los artadeceres de ayer.

Creo que ya no te amo.

Creo que ya no.

Creo.

Hope

Hope is the promise of wind on a scorching desert trail,
and the freezing whirlwind that dusk seems to parade.

At times it's the quiet that embraces me, canoodles me to sleep.
More often than not, it's the deafening silence of my portable phone.

As I stare into the winter sky,
Expecting the sunshine to pierce them somber clouds,
I think of you.

If only I still believed, in wishing upon a star
I would drive out of the city, into the fields
Just so I could wish upon a thousand of them at once.

But instead I lie here in our nest,
The one we built with your paws and my beak,
And I ask God to wash all hope away.

I cannot chase the horizon or the setting sun,
Pop a smile when I think of you, anymore.
I just want to forget you, forget you ever existed,
forget you ever changed and turned my heart to sand.

Hope is one cruel bitch,
Sadist, wicked and filthy rich.

I take her all in for the last time,
take her to our bridge on this winter night.

And as my lungs fill with with the icy cold,
I watch her die in a quiet show.

Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles....
... who ever said hope floats?

Suceso Inesperado

Crónica de un Divorcio pareciera el título adecuado para este blog, después de meses de implacable bombardeo de sentimientos, haciendo de cada entrada un paño de lágrimas, un saco de arena, y en ocasiones hasta apresuradas suturas.

Hay entradas cuyo mensaje ha amainado, un huracán covertido en mero viento invernal. Pero permanecerán aquí, como lápida y epitafio, testimonios de lo que fui y el camino que recorrí.

Cuando inicié Leo, Leono y Leónidas, para hablar de "historias y rituales de mi vida adulta", jamás imaginé que como profecía, este diario me llevaría de la mano en mi camino hacia la vida adulta. Espacio de reflexión, melodrama garantizado y uno que otro destello de mi antes tan característico idealismo. En fin, sea lo que sea, siempre pensé que escribía sólo para mí, pues en la inmensidad de este universo cibernético, ¿quién aterrizaría en mi pintoresco rincón?

Hoy me di cuenta que, ¡hay alguien ahí afuera que de verdad leyó lo que escribí! Y aunque esta noche habré de llegar solo a casa, me haré de cenar, lavaré los trastes y después de leer un poco me enterraré en las sábanas cual hurón en madriguera, no puedo evitar sentirme un poco menos solo, un tanto más acompañado.

Sabes quien eres, tú que no sólo has leído, sino entendido mis palabras... y es a ti a quien quiero dar las gracias con esta entrada. Te doy las gracias porque has encendido una luz en este caparazón de hojalata, y me has enseñado que Leo, Leono y Leónidas es también un faro y un altavoz, and maybe, just maybe, someone's listening in the vast darkness.