I'm not her, I wasn't born

When I first opened my eyes

I looked at you,

And you passed out

I wonder if it was right then

That you figured out, 

I was sent to be the end of you

You shot me in the dark

I tried to hold your hand

And ask you for help

Hoping that you'd hold me tight 

But you pulled the trigger instead.

You look at me

Like I'm not supposed to be

Like it's me vs you

But I didn't come, only to become

The hug of a coffin

And the dirt that'll cover up your grave.

I wasn't born as a fire

To burn you to ashes,

And weight you into the depths of the ocean

When I opened my eyes

Yet before I was blind

I tried to love you

But you loved the idea of death

Way too much, 

To let me be

Anyone else.

If I ever was

If I ever were to kill myself

I wouldn't tell you

I wouldn't write a letter

I wouldn't say goodbye

I would just 

Vanish

And hope that you'd forget

I ever was

Mirror, mirror, anyone but yours

I'm happy when you're gone

But then 

I'm scared you won't come back

I ask myself, am I afraid 

To lose your loveless love?

Or that you might

Drag me with you 

Into your grave?

It could be both

You hear my silence

And you shoot me back

Like it's a big offense

You hit me with opinions,

Opinions and more opinions

Like I'd care, like

I wouldn't 

Nothing very rational,

It's all just vibes 

— God,

I hate your fucking vibes —

You smell of carbon monoxide

For reference, it doesn't;

But that's exactly

What will kill you.

I come around, sweet and fluffy

Like that pillow you end up kicking

To the floor

Because you never use

And it's taking up space

And yet,

It emanates its past,

Proving you wrong.

You build a wall,

One minute, easy to assemble 

I know it took a while

But you nailed it,

You found a way to build a fucking wall

But only when I try to reach you.

A masterpiece of abandonment, 

One could say.

Resourceful, even.

I sit, mouth open

I wait for directions

Arf, arf

Opinions,

I expect,

But silence.

Dead silence, 

I mean,

You move your arm,

Small gesture

Showing me the invisible

Glass, I fail to notice on my own,

(While it's built with intention;)

And then you close the window.

I think, 

What am I doing here?

What's my purpose?

Why do I feel at fault

For something I'm not even sure that happened

Why am I standing, watching the silence

The invisible,

Tasting my life 

Dripping through my tongue

Wetting the floor

Waiting for me to slip, 

and crack my head wide open,

Finally.

Why do I live, if not to die?

You cry,

It hurts my ears

I try to cover them up

Someone demands me to listen

After all,

You need your body-double

Again, 

I am expected

To reflect you, as a blank canvas

I'm nothing but refraction

And light doesn't speak.

I am supposed to disarm

The bomb you raised

To become

I am the bomb you've raised to become

But I'm supposed to disarm it

Do you see where I'm going?

There's no exit

There's no "out"

There's no me

Just vibes

Horrible fucking vibes.

I never meant for you to starve

Hoje é dia de polícia e ladrão

I'll let you out of the cage,

But if you run, I'll hunt you down

Eu não gosto de ser policial

But I need to keep us safe

Still, you deserve some sun

And you deserve some cake

Mother's day is coming, 

Happy birthday,

I'm still trying my best

Mesmo sendo obrigado

A ser o carcereiro.

Thankful

I wish I could be thankful

But you made it so hard for me

How could I thank someone

Who puts their life in danger

Choosingly, and repeatedly

And blames it on me?

I never asked for any of this

You chose for yourself

And for me

You chose for us both

To die.

Bees can fly

Don't tell my mom, 

but my bee is dirty.

Don't tell my friends, 

but my bee is dirty. 

You don't need to tell, 

hide it from your pals,

You don't need to shout out 

"her bee is dirty!"

Don't tell your stepdad, 

much less his daughter

You don't need to bother

About whose bee's dirty

Please, don't tell your wife,

Your shrink or some guy

Delete it from your drive

If you wrote about it.

Keep it safe and sound,

Never talk about,

Don't ever confess

About it being dirty.

Take it to the ground,

When they cry around,

And never recall

You forgot about it.

As for me, I won't 

Ever tell someone

Not even myself

But my bee is dirty.

Para Você

Sei que estou louca

Quando me pergunto

Quem eu gostaria de ser

Se fosse para você

E como eu nunca vou te conhecer

Quem eu gostaria de ser

Se fosse para mim

The Being (english version)

I wish I knew

Where does it come from

And why does it come

If I sowed myself with so much care

To be someone I would love to admire

If it's born from the depths of my heart

Or from the shadow behind my desires

And if, despite having watered myself

Day in and day out

Or if, because I nourished myself so well

In the face of the mercilessness of time;

I wish I understood 

If I am or if I pretend

If I create and nurture

This being that roars, sickening

Extinguishing the light behind my eyes

And putting something in its place;

If it is natural or heinous,

If it comes with me,

If I picked it on the road,

If it's despair or something missing,

If it's me drowning or the absence,

If I gave it life,

If I was stolen from it,

If I composed it, atom by atom

If it echoes from a dream,

With intention and future,

If it's an accident, or just bad planning

If it determines me,

Or merely coincides;

I try to dig into it,

But I'm frightened,

That the search itself

Will end up feeding it,

I'm scared it'll grow

And collapse me,

I'm afraid that it'll become

A natural disaster,

Or the kind of thing

That keeps me awake at night;

That it makes me human;

I'm afraid

That it might bring me life,

It could become a habit,

It could end up replacing me;

Because it scares me how much I want it,

That if they did it, it would petrify me

I wish I knew

Where it rises from,

In which color and hunger,

Which first particle, 

What makes it a living thing,

In the face of objects;

What is the first force of its will;

And if I knew it,

If I would have the hands to uproot it,

If I could endure the tearing of its roots,

If it would be embedded in my neurons:

If it would bring me death;

And if aware

Of the choice that is now mine,

If I would choose

To surrender

To it,

If I would choose the world

Or if I'd choose myself.

A Criatura (The Being)

Queria saber

De onde vem

E por que vem

Se me plantei com tanto carinho

Para ser alguém que eu amaria olhar

Se nasce do fundo de meu peito

Ou da sombra por trás de meus desejos

E se apesar de ter-me regado

Dia sim e dia não

Ou se por ter-me nutrido tão bem

Diante da impiedade do tempo;

Queria entender

Se sou ou se finjo

Se crio e amamento

Esse ser que ruge doentio 

Apagando o brilho por trás de meus olhos

E colocando algo no lugar;

Se é natural ou hediondo,

Se veio comigo,

Se colhi na estrada,

Se é um desespero de uma falta,

Se é afogamento ou absência,

Se dei-lhe a luz,

Se me sequestra dela,

Se o compus, átomo por átomo

Se surge de algum sonho,

Com intenção e futuro,

Se é um acidente, ou mau planejamento 

Se me determina,

Ou apenas coincide;

Tento descobrir,

Mas tenho medo,

De a própria procura

Servir de alimento,

Tenho medo que cresça

E me desmorone

Tenho medo que se torne

Um desastre natural,

Ou o tipo de coisa

Que me tira o sono;

Que me torne humana;

Tenho medo

Que me traga à vida

Que se torne hábito,

Que ocupe o dia,

Que o quero tanto que me assusta

Que se o quisessem me daria medo

Queria saber

De onde brota,

Com que cor e fome,

Qual a primeira molécula

O que lhe faz um ser

Diante dos objetos;

Qual a primeira força de sua vontade;

E se o soubesse,

Se teria mãos para arrancá-lo

Se aguentaria o dilacerar de suas raízes,

Se estaria fincado em meus nerônios:

Se me traria a óbito;

E se ciente

Da escolha que me cabe,

Se eu escolheria 

Entregar-me

A este,

Se eu escolheria o mundo

Ou se eu escolheria a mim.

Frágua

Você carregava nas costas

Uma mochila furada

Cujo peso vinha do furo;

E com um kit de costura

Colocava tuas mãos no fogo

Tentando removê-la

Ou ao menos parte do peso;

Quando eu passei a ser parte

Do conteúdo da sua mochila;

Você se preocupou

Que o furo me puxasse pra baixo;

E então alimentou as chamas

Para combater os pesos;

Porque cinzas são mais fáceis de carregar;

Mas em vez de o furo ser lacrado,

O fogo pegou em mim

E de mim, nasceu um outro, furo próprio;

E eventualmente eu estava do lado de fora,

Carregando a minha mochila,

E metade da sua, que acabou selada em mim.