Querida niña



Docenas de almas pasan

a través

De los gritos de tu madre,

la confusión de ellas se inspira

en la frustración de su ser.

Su voz resurge

entre las sombras del silencio

como animal herido y enojado,

desgarradora de sonrisas

se vuelve

experta en matar la niñez.

Repite la sinfonía del horror,

De aquel horror que repite

la eterna melodía,

tornando triste tu vida,

querida niña,

sin parar hasta la adultez.

The Cycle of Words


Emptiness transforms words

into nothing.

It melts them with bitterness

and sobriety,

It seasons them with loneliness

and self pity.

It burns them to death,

Until the dust of what

once were words

float away.

Confused but free

they blend with the nowhere,

letting their pain be,

becoming oblivion,

Resting in peace.



Some sort of magic happens
when we find each other
in the ocean of the solitude.
I silently drown in your mouth
while the dust disappears in the wind,
and my voice becomes a hidden echo
that rumbles in the empty spaces of your soul.
Sometimes at night, I mischievously smile
cause I find you mysteriously enchanted
like an unexplored galaxy
like a distant star
like an impossible mountain.
You are that parallel reality I can’t live without
that secret life I’ll never share
and that happy ending I’ll never have.