This Is One Of Those Days That Math Punch You In The Face And You Can't Do Nothing But Cry.
This is one of those days that math punch you in the face and you can't do nothing but cry.
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Waiting for a Car
Waiting for a car. Cold street night, Looking at how people talk, Dancing clowns in the park.
Adults are drinking in the warm bar. Delicious displays are full of pie. Black, dry coffee is steaming from the cups. While my bones are crying mad.
Now clouds are stealing the stars. I almost felt a presence touching my arm. The vehicle is here, and the doors are ajar. A pleasant hug inside while the rain pours down the night.
Saturday night rush
In the distance are neon lights. I hate those crowded pubs. Too much noise, too much chaos, and too much vigor Enough to shake your ego.
Someone taught me how to inhale. Without warning, the pretty lights overtake. Soon, I start to dance and lose my nerve. Everything seems to be a celluloid layer all over again.
Sweaty shapes and colors under the electronic sound invisible groping and hugs between my laughs Soon I'm all yours, both kissing on the latex couch. Hearing all the pandemonium inside my lungs
I found myself in your room, on your bed. Inside the linen sheets, deep in the embrace You are kindly talking about our future while caressing my head. I'm listening, letting my feelings for you finally rest.
Dear Old Lucy
Dear Old Lucy, she never came back. She sailed alone, to a far away land. Nor sea or the drowned knows her whereabouts. Only the silence of the wind, might calm her down.
They used to quarrel and shout so much. The booze and smoke, let her dream a quiet life But fists and poison, cut all of that Only the silence of the breeze, might wake her up
Tragedy and fate are looking for Lucy She has a great debt to pay However, her naked steps were never heard The only witness, was her dead friend
Dear Old Lucy, she never came back She sailed alone, to a far away land Nor sea or the drowned knows here whereabouts for she has cheated death at such stormy night
Blue Strawberry
Blue Strawberry Walking by the street Amazed by such lovely boutiques Green thoughts, yellow felicity
I used to be loved. Sharing pink phrases Lots of red thoughts Drinking down brown praises
Freezing cold blue with milk Toasted with some aquamarine Our favorite dessert When we used to share mistakes
Now, the present is here. Colored me impress The Black Day still has a gift to send. Blue strawberries to my dearest friend
The modern prometheus is a story about a neglected child trying to make sense of life while being outcasted by everyone, meanwhile the father is living its best life.
The calm before the storm.
Waiting in vain, bound to a chair.
Is it me? or the walls are now green?
Why do dreams taste sweet?
Today is a new day, but I feel the same.
I try to run, but my legs just walk.
Why can't I write? Whom must I pray?
"She walked along the beach,
A small breeze made her dress swing.
She was alone, under the morning glow.
She was waiting for her friend to come."
What shall I write? Which ink should I use?
I weep for I don't know.
I don't want to, but I need to punch the wall.
"Until an aparition came,
in the form of a yellow grand hotel.
A majestic sight stood erect over the waves.
Hypnotic, as if the hotel were calling her name."
I sight in frustation; I can't wait.
Maybe tomorrow I'll finish a play.
But today, it's difficult for me to rest.
The pale man yelled alone.
Unnerving stanzas of Edgar Allan Poe,
I realized and cried, "You moron!"
"That's not a raven, it's a crow!!"
Lots of artist sing about love, woe and abstract perceptions. Hovewer, I propose to sing about mundane things, such as that slice of pizza that calls upon you at night when you're 12 beers deep, or that thing that lives in the walls and steals your left socks.
Life is to short to worry about emotions.
In 24 hours...
24 hours is such a long time. especially for those who want to hook up. My body yearns for his touch. I want to wake up.
My heart doesn't want me to sleep. I can't breathe. I need him! His delicious embrace To rest on top of his chest.
I miss his hypnotic scent. A couple of cuddles, and I lose myself. Please do not stop I belong to you.
In less than a day My dry dream will melt away. By tomorrow noon I will be kissing you.
