D U N

  There was an earthquake in my soul as I sat, soaking wet and still dripping, on the blanket. I shivered in a cold I haven't felt for years, it looked like giant green eyes reflecting the flame of our heater, hands between thighs on the third step of our staircase. It's suddenly winter and I have called you three times, you said thirty minutes, but it's been three hours since, now there's no answer and I wonder if you died in a car crash. The pain is so big, both your deaths and your broken promises that I fantasize about dying myself, the imagery becomes real in my soul and I am doomed to wander this three-floored, cold and empty house for eternity. I am still laughing with this beautiful human by my side, in this beautiful spot, in yet another beautiful day, but my fingertips know. The hairs on my legs, my heels, the space between my ribs and the depths of my spine, they all know that there is a lead orb keeping me from truly holding this hand, a very real, loving ha...

"Where do you think it comes from? What does it feel like?" - You are a light of sunlight on my skin, Warm and bright, hope-like. How could I not love you in the grounding, simple love, you show me every day? This unwrapping of ourselves, slowly to our guts, feels like the moon at any phase, like you at any day. I didn't know how easy this can be. You showed me that love is not a drowning wave of darkness, but a gentle salty lake to float on, in peace. In this void that holds it all, where I don't need more than what you wish to give. Instead of an endless pit, to be filled. Your love feels like the possibility of everything, in the infinite nothingness within. The source. Like how there's no sound without silence, your love brings the calm, my love brings the storm. And so we flow gently like waves in the Pacific of our souls.

Hoy la vi sin querer, queriendo.  Mirando fotos viejas la encontré, su nombre destacado. Pensé que no sería bueno,  que debía dejarlo ir,  pero no. Abrí su carpeta y me gustó,  es linda. Me duele. "no quería, no quería" Ya no puedo mantener los pensamientos,  me inundo de sensaciones, contradicciones. "yo no quería, no quería" Pero no dijiste nada. Sigo sin decir nada. Sigo en una lucha interna,  una guerra fría entre el miedo y el amor, para mi. por mi. "yo no quería, no quiero" pero verla me descompuso,  como los coágulos grises, sangre viva. Belén. Es primera vez que escribo tu nombre desde que pasó,  hace un mes conté la historia por primera vez, tantas primeras veces,  tanto que no recuerdo.  A veces pienso en confrontarte,  pero, valdrá la pena? Fuiste tu la perpetuadora? Es extraño entenderlo todo,  ver el allá y e...

 Estoy repleta de pena. Él me miró, por un rato, fijo a los ojos y yo, enrrojecida, miré hacia abajo y reí nerviosa, después de casi dos años sigues dándome mariposas. Un desayuno liviano, saludable. La pared durazno destrás de sus ojos amables. En el mismo lugar, él me miraba de reojo, el silencio era intenso, la expresión de pesadez me mantenía mirando la comida. El dolor crecía, la pena. Un desayuno abundante y delicioso, La pared durazno se fundía con su cabello que todavía no corto, sus ojos que no me atreví a cruzar. Misma escena, un día de distancia, dos corazones. Uno que se alegra y entusiasma cuando hablo de mis sueños, otro que al escucharlos, se aterra del final, de los cambios, y explota en emociones hasta ese silencio abrumador. Estoy repleta de pena. Ayer hablé con mi madre por 5 horas. La extraño. Las extraño a todas. No paro de llorar. Estoy repleta de pena. Sueño con el fin del mundo y sufro porque no puedo tenerles a todas juntas. Estoy repleta de pena. Tanta, qu...

Faint light crawling through the curtains in the morning, close to the darkest time of the year, again. There was no wish to get out of bed, again. But this restless mind wouldn't stop chasing something, anything really.  She stretched her arm into the cold air in the room and picked up the phone. A light too strong showed the time; 7:53. A strong annoyance shook her guts: "Finally I can sleep longer, but this curse of a brain won't let me" - Is that bad self-talk? The arm went back under the warm & cosy blanket, a self-hug with more intrusive thoughts, more to-dos, more random images, questions and problems.  "Cállate, cállate, cállate", she repeated to herself for a while until she held the phone once more and played a good old guided meditation. 45 minutes of a man telling her what to do, as if we didn't have enough of that already, what an awful thing to do. Lucky for her, she did the exact opposite of what he said: She fell asleep.  In this stra...