The cold does not freeze at night without losing
essentially hidden
dark clouds of rain.
Without sky,
a place to dream,
away from all
heaven is a
pain compared with only
rain that nobody can feel.
Dogs barking at comets, volcanoes
unhealthy ice cream and flowers,
we have life in his hand,
without sky to fall, beside roads
not trafficked.
Animals on the prowl,
the running man
homeless in the woods, yellow
skies covering his face, and
does not provide the color
of his forehead.
Pain is a
child who is afraid of losing
the affection they have given.
A Rose de hielo,
una ofensa sin perdón.
El tiempo no se regala
en vitrinas, exhibido como
un obsequio.
Sin embargo,
te puedo regalar mi voluntad.
Siempre he querido caminar de tu mano,
pero olvidaste donde nací
y no has podido encontrarme.
Los días de lluvia me han swallowed,
and I have fallen among the rocks,
this blue is not water,
is a butterfly lap
distressed.
This day is colder than yesterday,
but no matter,
have forgiven the rain.
Did you have fun singing the chorus
of insane flying the rainbow?
were my friend, now is not your name, but
no matter, the names do not say anything.
spend nights singing
did not matter that I'm dumb?
3
I was born in a womb
withered, every touch of the skin
is an insult
also breathed acid,
and every day I was in a grave without flowers.
This hole is a sob,
that every day reminds me
me,
without knowing myself, I've become a monster
who can not recognize the truth of illusion.
A dream
a fear of the soul
shelter
a calm day.
I tried to fly,
but the angels have died.
This omen is an empty stone
sun that feeds
and tuberose blossoms,
recreating heaven languages \u200b\u200b
and affections of flies in mouths.
Under the floor, I have
fear
uncontrolled
unable to sing
I've been born to die.
This gift is not for me, falls
have swallowed dust and
sleepless nights,
unable to give me a hug myself.
fingerless hands
white eyes,
moon way
about sleep.
Life borrowed
never asked,
way of heaven.
I cried all
the faults of others.
4
I consumed this eternal sigh
without sleep,
am a pillar stranded on the shores
where no one above.
I laid my hand
to forget that no one lives,
I can not mourn
but I can laugh.
All words
are hungry wolves,
all hands are
unread books.
I was lucky to live-I,
if I did not say anything,
is because I am still alive.
Music
travels sound of the night,
rush in steps.
'm a storm
flying ... flying ...
5
And all the mysteries are
fugases
and all the laughs
are songs
of children ever
were afraid to grow,
of fearful infants
to lose.
The eyes are
bubbles of soap,
hide houses
dreams unrealized,
charms of childhood
who leave
sniffing,
evaporated over time.
And all the things we thought
do
were made
cut with axes,
the edge of the paper
writes not
skin or eyes closed.
We have grown
and only we
men who failed to laugh,
are not children,
babies cry,
not know to be men
malformed by shadows,
unfair events.
I am a child,
winter
a sob
a breath.
I grew up.
6
has lost consciousness
seeking sanity
first term is the I
it expands.
A ghost is married
with his fear of frightening,
a weary
effort to meet a schedule.
The dead pray to the living
but we forget that we die,
and perhaps also
pray.
A secret is a stone
hidden at the bottom of the sea,
is hidden fish
not want to see.
Look, we
fish and swim in aquariums
frequented by walls.
salt Fireflies
jumping chasms
to shine
in different seas.
Lemon yellow,
strong hands that open
and moan, raindrops
in the eyes do not cry.
I am old.
7
Do you know me?
call me quiet.
used to be a young gay
but time will know,
walk for us.
