Hope in our venue

I've never thought love
could mean so little to me
as it does nowadays. Your words have no
inspiration to my dreams, anymore.
It might be my eyes; tired of loosing
sleep trying to understand you or
maybe my so called feelings are finally
fading as I once wished they would.

I don't want to sound like a hypocrite
but even when I say I love you,
I can't feel the spark anymore.
I search for more than hopes,
I search for fire. The one that sets
the music to my soul and takes me away.
But as I reach my favorite place in the sky,
I no longer find you there.

Falling in love is magical but falling
out of love is tragical. I've loved you
for so long that I can't remember what
it was like to not be in love with you.
But what can we do now that your plan
to keep me close, took away all of
what belonged to you.

Help me find my way back to you.
Help me pursue hope in our venue again.
Take my hand and never again let go,
cause that might be our last chance to be in love.

Give Me

Those words that linger in your
tongue can cure all of my soul.
And those eyes have the blues that gives
me hope of a brighter future.
Your lips are the evidence that heaven exists,
impulsing me to sail your body like an ocean
without limits.
In your arms I find the route of strength
to defy the world.
And your voice, so sweet, softens
my cruel nights.
My philosophy and my religion is to search
for a reason to live in your heart.
My only philosophy and religion
is the theory of reaching your soul.
Give me a reason, a sign, give me some of your hope.
Give me your first time, your loneliness, your fears,
your first kiss. Give me everything you have. Give me
a little more of you and I will give you a little more of me.
Give me a minute of your life to find happiness in your heart.

Set those words free.

Au Revoir to my Bonjour

What is France without Bonjour?

It's love without affection, it's a night

without the moon: empty and solitary of a soul.

It is a kiss never given or words never spoken and 

if so, there is no moment that can give back the real

Bonjour. 

France would then, no longer mean anything to the lovers 

neither to the dreamers or to the painters. It's no longer a 

description of what used to be happiness but rather empty actions of lust. 

France without Bonjour it's what I call you; 

with your attitude so carefree that makes me 

feel so weak, with your so called reality that reminds me 

of empty streets in Berlin. And your smile of a king....That gives it all away.

"Bonjour" I say to you but, there is no hello in a goodbye like this,

cause my France has been destroyed for lack of faith and

hope for this love. "Au Revoir France"

I can't help

I can't help wanting you.
I can't help feeling like someone
that you don't need in your life.
I can't help not feeling loved.
I can't help wanting to be there,
even when you don't want me to.
I can't help falling in love,
and wanting to repeat those words
over, and over again.
I can't help being stubborn around you,
since being stubborn is what has kept me
close to you after all.
I can't help wanting to see, touch, hear
you; Feel your breath right next to me.
I can't help putting on replay those
songs you love so much.
I can't help being scare, fearing loosing
you or loosing me instead.
I can't help not agreeing with our
agreenment. What happens if our plan
doesn't work?
I can't help being jealous of the
idea of another girl being there.
I can't help being selfish.
I can't help missing you this much.
I can't help my heart from beating
the heck out of me when I have your attention.
I can't help thinking about you in the car,
at work, on my way to church.
I can't help it, I can't help myself.
I might be wrong, I know. But you can't
help this stubborn soul, now can you?

To love

To love, there must be a reason

that may or may not be rational

but that indeed explains why that person

deserves the strong affection.

There must be something different,

brilliant, special, authentic, that goes

beyond physical, external appearances,

that makes that feeling as essential

as we make it.

And as I analyze the why of you and me;

I must say I find it surprising to know that all 

the reasons I thought I had to love you:

make no sense at all.

I mean, love is not a place of common sense,

really is not. But if I can't clearly and coherently 

explain that feeling, then how can I call it Love?

See, lust is a tricky feeling that lies underneath 

connections of appearances, and that fine line

between two bodies that attract each other, can 

indeed be confused as love.

So, if that was the case -my case-

could it be possible to ever suffer for lust?

Don't let them in.

"If you let it in, it will suck you up until there is nothing left of you"

Soft voice knocking at my door. I smile and look through the window, 

a strange figure dressed in a very appealing way smiles and ask me for 

an invitation to enter my house. My inside yells No, 

but something never felt before, calls me to open.

They are mythological or folkloric beings who subsist by feeding on the life essence (generally in the form of blood) of living creatures, regardless of whether they are undead or a living person.

    I turn around and start walking towards my room to clean the mess of my last visitor, who had left me heart broken, as usual. Nude from my toes to my soul, I search for clean clothes to dress with. While the strange figure awaits at my door, music from the radio blast my soul, and
I start to smile at the thought of having someone to 

love.

"He/she may not enter anywhere at first, unless there be some member of the household to bid him/her to come; though afterward he/she can come as he/she pleases.

Confused and desperate, in need of an exit of all this mess, I wonder through my mind if the person at my door would mind the disaster surrounding me. I rush to the mirror and comb my dark hair. Through the reflection of the mirror that points the window of my room, I see the eyes of an owl observing my moves, I turn. His eyes look straight at me, as if could answer any question... 

-I'm scared. I mumble,

-everything will be fine. Trust me.

-But I'm loosing me. 

-I will help you find you. Just open the door.

I take a look outside the window, surprised.

 I didn't notice how fast the night has fallen.

They have control over the animal world and can turn into a bat, rat, owl, moth, fox, or wolf.

May this stranger be my hope, shaped in a different form? Trembled, fear, curiosity. 

Never took this long for me to invite or revoke someones invitation to my home.

There is something inside me that pulls beneath the surface, yelling to avoid this guest,

Consuming, confusing me. This lack of self-control, I fear is never ending. 

Nude to my soul, can't find the appropriate clothing to dress myself with. 

The visitor awaits, while its voice asks one more time, 

"let me in".

"It initially emerges as a soft blurry shape with no bones. “bags of blood” with red, glowing eyes. If he/she could survive for 40 days, he/she would then develop bones and a body and become much more dangerous and difficult to kill"

 The pressure of the guest starts to make me nervous. 

Am I loosing my only chance? 

I don't wanna say no, but something in me fears that opening this door 

could lead to something different of what I expect. As I put on my purple dress, 

I walk towards the door, decided to open and let my guest in.

"There is nothing to fear" I tell myself.

  I lied.

They are just like fleas - They cheat a little.

As I unlock the door, I see the sun rise and stare with amusement for couple of minutes. "OPEN THE DOOR" he yells, but its figure its that of a woman's flesh. Confused to the light that reflects a horrified image. 

she grabs my hands and asks me one more time,

 -do you trust me?

 -I don't know you

   -Just let me in, invite me in. NOW!

-Come i...

without finishing my words, the figure smiles and grabs my neck. I fear for my life.but there is no time to think, or fear, or ask. I feel something burn my insides. Pleasure and Pain in a merely second. 

-Let go. I cried.  

-Please, let me go 

As I start to loose conscious I go back to the memory of my father's last words.

"If you let the vampire in, they will suck your blood until there is nothing left of you".

  

I thought he was crazy but as I smile, I grabbed the silver knife he was given me to protect myself. 

I come back to my reality and reach the left pocket of my purple dress. 

I had no idea what I was about to do, with the last strength left in my body,

I stab its left back side, penetrating his/her heart and accidentally  penetrating my chest. 

We both lay unconscious on the floor. 

I taste blood on my lips, but was not sure of  whether was my own, 

or the creature I had just assassinated. I had saved my life but had destroy my soul. 

As I recover my consciousness I reach for the wound but find no hole,  

just a broken cross covered in blood. Where did it come from?

Could it be possible? Was I saved?  

With blood running through my fingers, I grab the cross from under the dress 

to find myself holding the rest of a rosary.

Silver is known for its pure qualities and is used to keep away evil spirits, vampires, werewolves and other evil beings for centuries. Silver can be melted down to form amulets, jewelry, bullets, daggers and religious symbols such as crucifixes.

 

Let me in- wallpaper

P. 73

Before I conduce

these feelings to the suit case

of memories; I stand

here wanting to accomplish

one last wish. Before I send 

these tenderness to hell; I want

to get drunk with your kisses, again.

Run your fingers through my hair one more

time, give me the chills that my body wants.

and while your hands slip through my back,

whisper in my ear; I love you, for the last time.

Turn the last page where the book

finally ends. Let's alter its present ending,

and make it a worth reading page.

P. 72

What is life after a break of heart?

It's a teardrop in the sky. It's expecting

a never incoming call. It's a kiss on a cheek

when all you want, its a taste of his lips.

It's dreaming and not wanting to wake up because,

only in your dreams you can have everything you

really want because everything you ever wanted was,

to have him in your arms.

 

By: Linda Bergkvist

P. 70

Esta noche no quiero dormir.
Esta noche no quiero estudiar,
hoy quiero hundirme en tus recuerdos
y de ellos despertar, este amor
que nunca muere. Este amor
que me hace sonar.

Tus besos cada dia se repiten en mi
memoria. Tus manos atravezando mi cintura,
el placer de sentir tu cuerpo, tu calor,
sobre mi pecho, dentro de mi.Tu voz
que hacia mi interior temblar.
El susurro de tus labios en mi oido,
bello placer. Unico placer, que solo
tu me sabias dar.

Y cuando despierto de ese transito
de recuerdos, vuelvo a ver aquella fotografia.
La unica viva de lo nuestro. Mi unica prueba de que este
amor no fue solo un sueno. Mi unica prueba de que
un dia si me amaste de verdad.

p.69

Last night I ceased

my thirst of you.

Last night, I felt

your warmth invade every

extreme cold stone

of me.

In one night

we made up to the hundreds of

lonely days I had spent without

you. And who would of ever thought,

that heaven was accessible

in less than 20.

As our bodies

laid together we found ourselves;

sharing same dreams,

sharing same fire,

sharing same Passion.

Beauty to the eyes of those watching.

We made love to the moon. With every touch

a new troth came alive. My hands,

driving up and down each curve of your body,

discovering in every corner, a new secret

of you.

The perfume of your skin

drove me to heaven and, in my

elevation I found myself

holding two worlds.

The hot weather of hell,

The passion from your moves,

The voice coming from your insides as I

left the gates of the infernal destination

of empty streets. A sleepless night.

Your heart

whispered my name,

begging for more of me,

of the pleasure that only I,

could give to your mistreated

soul.

I heard you say something

but my thirst for you was not over.

I searched for the place where

we would reunite. Where only you

and I could connect completely,

without nature's interference. I searched for

that sweet muscle that I had not yet

explored. The place that goes beyond your lips.

Where your words rest and your throat breaths.

Your tongue danced away as if scare to get lost

but did not hold too long because as me, she was also curious.

I had experienced everything in one night. From hell to heaven

I had felt every corner of you,thus far the biggest pleasure laid on your tongue.

And there was our pact of eternity, the ultimate connection missing from ourselves.

"no more." you whispered, as I rest my head between your chest and

fell asleep to the beautiful harmony of your beating heart. 

"no more." 



Open wounds, open heart.

I saw you today,

in no time my heart stopped.
With no cautious, blood rushed
to the most infinite vein inside of me.
And the lyrics of that song keep coming
back to my mind. "we had magic"

I've been forbidden to think of you, for the sake
of my soul, for the sake of my heart. Yet I saw you
today and all boundaries trembled. I hate to think that
such weak & ignorant self as you could do so much to me.


I can have you fall to the ground if I wanted to, because I MADE YOU.
-or at least who you used to be-.
You elicited all your answers and targeted them to destroy
me, to destroy US.

how does it feel, to circumvent for an already given answer?
I wonder if you ever see yourself as what you have become:
a transparent copy of everything you promised you'd never be.
And because of that, you failed to me, to your dreams,
to your hopes, but most importantly you failed..
to YOURSELF.

Now, this feeling of revulsion and desire for you, hunts my nights.
My reasonings find it so abstruse, how can a person you loved
so much hurt you this way? and a part of me answers: "how
could you be SO stupid to NOT think he could?"

These wounds of mines, I hold you accountable for and
your actions will forever remain inconceivable to me.
And if anyone is to blame for not trying,
and if anyone is to blame of why I no longer love as fully as I used to;
I suggest you to look in the mirror. There you'll find that
onerous answer that inconceivably you avoid, my love.

Deceiving Love

Could it be possible to deceive Love?
Could Love be locked up in a place
with no windows, and still survive?
So that whatever is left would no longer
be Love neither something close to.

Love is selfish and carefree.
It cannot be forbidden from the Sun
nor the Moon. Love is free to do whatever he wants
with us.

That is why you are hurt, that is why I am hurt.
And as much as I wish this would be the last time,
I am sure with my life, it won't.

Love wants it all;
your thoughts, your soul,
your hopes. As selfish as it can be,
and as spoiled as no other feeling.

Love therefore,
needs freedom to satisfy it's own
selfishness.

Love is denial as it is affirmation.
Completely blind to it's own light,
nonsense, stubborn for his own good.
-Althought it might not be ours-

Even the cold blooded soul falls
to the ground on that moment of weakness.
Yes, Love hides weakness behind it's strength,
because you must be weak in order to become strong.

So, why haven't anyone stop Love from these childish games
of his? Why not lock it up in a safe place till it turns into
nothing?

See, some of us praise his death yet we're still here
trying to decode his silly games, trying to figure out how to get some more of that poison.
Feeding him with that pain and envy of everything we will never
have, and everything we hope to find.

Towards that final chapter, when all games
have been finally knocked down. When Love
walks it's final steps to the end. He plays
his last Ace.

~Open His Wings~

And everything else goes as follow...

Amusement.
Admiration.
Adoration.
Distraction.
H O P E.

And that's when you give in. Forgetting
past pains because Love have deceived you
again. And to answer my own question.

Love always wins.

Meditating with the heart

Something you can't see
            instead you feel.

There is nothing you can do to stop
   the beat of your heart.

The sun rises and your eyes burn.
 The fire it brings you,
   when you hear his voice.

Isn't this love?

When your body shivers and your tongue roles,
    dancing beneath your teeth.

Kiss him! Kiss him! That's what you feel.

Love is fire; Passion and sex.
A drop of poison
killing you,
driving you,
insane.