i'd like to grab you by the hair and sell you off to the devil

lo que me rompe el corazón es que los que quiero me quieran de la piel para afuera
que no me quieran por dentro
que me quieran poco
que no alcance lo que me quieran
que quieran lo que yo veo en el espejo
que haya otra que quieran más que a mí

days are forgotten

no matter how painstakingly in the deep of your heart you want it to happen
maybe the more you want it the fewer possibilities there are you'll achieve it
maybe it's like some kind of frightened little bird that escapes from reach you when you are so close to have it in your hands
maybe it's like some kind of vessel that deviates from the iceberg that threatens to punch a hole through it making it sink in the deeps
maybe you're the person unawaredly pushing it away
maybe you're looking in the wrong places
maybe you're looking for something and you don't even know what it looks like
maybe it's running away from you
maybe it just doesn't exist
maybe you don't deserve it

carmensita

That empty feeling you get in your stomach when you see how people, step by step, live their lives, move on, have new things in their lives and how you're left behind so behind in time, locked in a drawer full of stuff none even remembers, fraught with souvenirs from the past, unimportant, silly objects.

And you know you're one of them. Nobody will pick you up from there. You stand there in the shadow, hoping you could be sorted out or at least, improved. And no, no one ever comes. And yes, you're still the same object as the one that was left there. And no, people outside the drawer are not the same.

And you're different from them because you're not different from your former you