Dry Fish

I feel trapped into this aging body

Drowning in oxygen,

Pulsing blood against my will

I don't know why I'm so scared

To face my rotting paintings

The bugs that infested my past

The webs, the dust

The dirt and stains on the walls

The holes

What is so scary about an old building,

Which used to smell fresh 

Wall painting and cement

Taste like red new bricks

Right out of the oven

From another abandoned house

That fell apart

To become the mud that makes

The new foundation

And it's all about to collapse again

What about the cycle,

If the end doesn't exist?

Why am I so scared to leave,

And so willing to,

If we don't end

Is peace an actual feeling?

Have I been drowing my entire life?

What was my first breath

My first pain

The first color that my eyes acknowledged 

When did I start to be?

I wonder what will be my last

Day and photo that my mind takes

Unnoticed, expecting for a future

For a nostalgic peek 

That will never come

I wonder how am I supposed

To stand existence

If I'm soaked in pain and guilt

If my days are foggy

And I feel the air as a dark grey texture

That peels me away

For me to become a flavored breeze

I wonder 

If there's still anything for me to feel

That my give some worth

To my stay

Stardew Valley Cornucopia Bkgd

 

Reptiliano

Meu corpo não esquenta

Acho que meu termômetro está quebrado

Minha mãe me comprou um novo

Acho que esse não serve

Talvez seja a chama piloto

Que esteja apagada demais

Para alcançar meus braços

Talvez me falte combustível

Meu pente saiu limpo

Acho que são boas novas

Mas eu ronco sem fome

Sem fome de vida,

De me manter aqui

E não sei onde procurar minhas calças

Eu congelo por dentro

Pra não arder em chamas

Talvez eu precise de combustível

Mas o quão perigoso isso seria?

Se eu me ateasse fogo,

Será que resolvia

Se eu cortasse as cordas

Será que meu sangue pararia

De pulsar sobre as minhas têmporas

Como desviasse o caminho do peito

Como esquecesse de funcionar

Se eu jogasse meus pertences num saco

Preto e amarrasse

Quanta falta eles me fariam?

Não me resta muito o que tentar

Ou talvez reste

Mas já não me restam tentativas

Meu corpo pede clemência

Um fim digno de guerra

Pois que de tanto tentar ser eu

Está em cinzas

E eu gostaria que alguém as enterrasse

Mas também não faria diferença

Do 23° andar

Faz tempo que não tenho um diário.

Que não rabisco, que não desenho

Que não escrevo poemas à mão

Ou não perco folhas importantes.

Faz tempo q eu não coloro meu livrinho

Com minhas canetinhas

Pacientemente, até o fim

Que não fico feliz com o resultado

Com o desenvolvimento,

Com a percepção de ser um novo eu.

Por que eu tenho medo

De me ver sobre um papel?

São 5 da manhã e que vontade que eu sinto

De começar um diário novo.

De escrever e rabiscar e desenhar

E listar no papel todas as minhas importâncias

Todas as minhas vielas

E o que se acumula entre elas

Eu penso que estou deitada

Que não é hora

Que estou cansada 

Nada disso me impediria no passado

Mas algo me engole no processo

Tudo que eu consigo pensar é

Em como desejo fechar meus dois olhos

E ir pra um mundo onde eu sei que alguém me abraça

Mesmo que seja o diabo

Mesmo que seja uma cobra

Ou um escorpião

Eu desejo fugir dessa realidade

Antes que eu nela invista

Mais uma vez

Meu tempo

Meu corpo

Minha energia 

Minha vontade de viver 

Tão escassa quanto

As lagartixas que aparecem aqui em casa

Pra me visitar

E me socorrer.

Não sei explicar

Qual é o sentimento

De me sentir sendo devorada

Por alguma coisa sem nome e sem cor

Que me desintegra os nervos

De fora pra dentro

Que eu me sinto mastigada

Como um choque leve

Leve demais pra ser tolerável

Não sei explicar como é

Me sentir morrendo 

Escorrendo 

Por entre meus dedos

Desabando sobre mim

Mas sentir a morte

Mais forte que tudo

Mais real que o sol

Muda você.

Tatear o seu próprio fim

De novo e de novo

Sentir o gosto nos ossos

Saber o que é não mais existir,

Isso muda você.

Não dá pra fingir que nunca aconteceu.

Eu vivo com medo

De desabar neste mesmo buraco

Sinto que sei demais

E não consigo parar de procurar

De cutucar

No buraco do vespeiro

É uma força que vai além de mim

Me carrega com ela

E me derruba

No abismo sem fim do ser

Ou do deixar de ser.

Tenho medo de mexer com meus dedos dos pés

E abrir os olhos 

De sentir a pele

Porque acho que quando eu notar

Eu já estarei caindo lá de cima

Eu já estarei no meio do caminho.

Translation; AG

I feel so fucking lonely

I wonder

What my mom would do

If she realized

The amount of money

I've been spending

Trying to be near you

Trying to compensate

For your absence

Trying to rehab.

I don't understand you

I never did

And likely I never will

I try to code you

To translate your actions

Your moving pictures

Your secret messages

That you may not even be aware

To be sharing;

I'm used to decrypt 

All sorts of people

But you're different.

And I wanna know

What is in your shadows

Why do you play me

What do you do it for

I try to make you songs

I try to write you something 

Because shutting myself up

Has been a tough task

I think of paintings

I think of you

I wanna lay myself on your lap

Like you're my older brother

Like I belong to you

But we can't speak to each other

Not that we don't try

It's just that we lack the tools

I don't know how 

How to

How to

Visit you

Or

To allow you in.

I don't know how

To process

What you say to me

What you do to me

I simply don't know.

You make me anxious

You make me lonely 

And maybe

You're not even making anything

I think I'm doing it

All by myself

You may have not spoken to me

Not a single sentence

I don't think

You ever introduced yourself

With your eyes closed

I want to treat you like you treat me

But it's hard

Because you're from a different planet

And I barely know how to use your signs

And even though I'm a traveler 

Seeking for new species

To meet me

And teach me

Better ways to survive

I don't know how to read you

You're a sweet, you're a riddle

You're so common and simple

I don't know how you ended up

Opening up my mind

I try to write you some poetry

After 3am

Thinking of the door that you handmade

To invite me inside

Until you choose to walk away

I've been

Trying to teach myself

How to treat you 

As sweet as you treat me

With your both eyes closed

You don't even need to walk away

To be far from me

I know that I'm unreachable

But you don't even try

And I shouldn't be trying hard

To accomplish

Such an easy task

To choose my words so carefully

On the tip of my toes

But I don't know how to translate you

And I don't like it easy

And maybe I don't like happy 

Afterall

Sour Syrup

I swallow a whole pan of a salty chocolate

The most buttery I've ever cooked

I glue my lips on a rubber straw

In a caffeinated can

I drink one per day

Just like my mom taught me

With her eyes blurred

And sinking voice

I press my fingers against the board

Counting prices and hoping

For a money that did not yet fall

Onto my lap

Praying her to soon forget

Whatever way I'm about to fuck her

Once again

Just like my whole life,

I guess

I preach that guilt is the most useless feeling

You cannot do a thing with it

It's in the past: a place you cannot reach

But I guess it's easier

To blame her for all of her sins

To be an asshole over her being

And feel bad about it

'Cause I still will carry my benefits around 

It used to be easier to cut myself

I have been thinking about it quite a lot

Because it used to pay for my existence

It's all I have to offer,

My pain and blood

My screwed up body

For their pleasure

It's what I have to give 

To pay my debt

I don't remember how to speak my language

Or to use my birth-name

I don't remember how to walk down the streets

Of my past and future

Of my present

I don't know how to receive gifts

And be grateful for it

I'm not grateful for anything

Because it always has a price

It has been like that

Since I can remember

I survive on my own

A 60yo war

The screaming and threats

The humiliation

I survive my father and my 11years

I survive the fear

That cuts deeper than my panics

The dark fog

That poisons me at sleep

And behind my thoughts 

What solves my entire knowledge 

Of myself

I am alone,

I try to recite 

I try to drink it

As a soda dose

Sugary, easy to sip

Being alone is all I know

Don't wait for anything different 

My sugar's high and makes me sick

Nauseous, scared

I feel like I'm 3

But I'm 27

I cannot reach for a hand

I'm on my own

Maybe I shouldn't even be