tienes 14 o 17 años, y todo lo que pasa ahora es gigante y te consume. sabes que el mundo sigue dando vueltas y que eres joven, siempre abran mas oportunidades. pero no lo sabes realmente, porque parece que tu vida se acaba todas las semanas.
tienes 14 o 17 años y nada cabe realmente en tu pecho, sino que todas las experiencias te golpean en la cara. te empujan por las escaleras. te duelen las manos de agarrar a los demás tan fuerte. pero no puedes no sostenerlos, no puedes no sentir con todo tu cuerpo, todos los días.
no te da miedo porque sabes que va a pasar, que este es el momento de cometer errores, de probar las cosas que tus papás te dicen que te hacen mal. de quedarte dormida en casas extrañas, de besar a cualquiera que te deje.
da lo mismo, piensas, cuando este en mis veinte voy a tener todo resuelto y las respuestas caerán del cielo. o las voy a buscar en google.
da lo mismo, no importa. las cicatrices sanan, mañana van a inventar una cirugía que arregle mi cara, mi guata, mis orejas. soy joven, tengo derecho a ser tonta, irresponsable, ridícula.
tienes 14 o 17 años y aun no sabes - pero lo sabrás pronto - que hay una parte de ti que nunca saldrá del colegio, que será tonta, irresponsable y ridícula por siempre.

ships in the night

sometimes i write i miss you so much that i want to vomit on a piece of paper and then i tear it to pieces
with the messiest of handwritings i write oh please be okay wherever you are, and then i smudge the ink with my thumb
let's find the echo of you in every single poem i try to put down in paper
true love is a respite from fear, and i am scared shitless at night
the city is going to eat me up

Detail of the Woods, Richard Siken

I looked at all the trees and didn't know what to do.

A box made out of leaves.
What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless.

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else.
I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long nights moon.
From the landscape: a sense of scale.
From the dead: a sense of scale

I turned my back on the story. A sense of superiority.
Everything casts a shadow.

Your body told me in a dream it's never been afraid of anything.

when you are nineteen the world feels endless. life is exciting like wearing glittery eyeshadow, wearing heels for the first time, twirling in your new dress with fireworks in the background. being nineteen is being old enough to know that you'll only remember the nice things, and not old enough to keep you from touching the grass with your bare feet. it's a last chance, the last time to be childish. the last year anyone will ever make excuses for you, oh she doesn't know any better.
you don't know this yet, but adulthood is about fending off the loneliness. i hope you only find out when you are loved enough to never feel discouraged at life, even when it gets dirty and unjust. you are nineteen and your job is to collect every moment, know this: your heart will hold on to them for ever, want to or not. this is the year of bad desicions, cheap vodka, the year of sweetness. this is the last year.
life is looking at you in the face. don't give your back to it.

jagged, vacance, thick with ice

estaba buscando lapices de colores para dibujarte puntitos enumerados que puedas seguir sobre una pagina, para que sepas el camino. una lista de instrucciones al otro lado: así es como puedes encontrarme. aquí estoy.
el problema es que no te importa saber de mí.

sing me something sad, soft and delicate

When my mom was my age she had long hair. she wore leather skirts, high boots and black eyeliner. my mom was a rebel. she loved maths and couldn't write for shit but read vicente huidobro's poetry every night, hiding under the covers. she wanted to be a scientist, wanted somewhere quiet and just for her where she could do what she loved and did best. my mom gave me her first name, her crazy hair and eyes, her exploding laughter. but that's pretty much it. i was born old and she was a firecracker at nineteen, a blazing fire at twentyone. loved my dad with all her heart, the only way she knows how to do things: fully and without regrets.  Mom, i wish i could go back in time and meet you then and we'd be best friends. me, with the secret knowledge of your soul and you, the star that sets the sky alight each day for us.

sometimes being second best to everyone in my life gets really fucking tiring.