Soul Words

I am glad to call myself independent,
To have grown from my mistakes,
To have stood up for myself,
To have Jesus as my only concern,
To be able to see situations from different perspectives,
To reserve my love and,
Care for those who truly need it,
To appreciate my days not only
For the benefits but for all the goodness God shows me.

I am glad to say ''I am good'' when people ask me how am I doing,
Because I really am. I have problems, but I see beyond today.
I am glad to accept me for who I am
Without needing the acceptance of the world,
Without needing any material love.
I am glad to be able to BREATHE.
To be ME from AM till I go to sleep.
To be able to finally speak the truth. MY truth.
Because my lips have been long condemn for reasons that I now regret.

I live life FULLY, knowing that everyday counts
Because we only have 86,400 seconds in a day to turn it
All around or to throw it all away.
To be able to make my own sounds,
Because everyday is a song,
With different melodies and different words.

To be able to call myself STRONG
Because I have always been,
Because I no longer step on wood, I step on steel.
From today, till the day I leave.

Lo Que He Aprendido (poema para tu primer aniversario)

He aprendido que estas lágrimas no pierden valor si son en tu nombre y

cada gota derramada me trae un recuerdo tuyo.

He despertado todos mis instintos en busca de ti y

mis sentimientos se desvelan en cada esquina de mi piel.

Mis ojos buscan tus ojos y en cada hombre vive la esperanza de verte,

por lo menos una vez más.

Quisiera abrir ese hoyo en el que tu cuerpo descansa y

contemplarte hasta imaginar un despertar, mientras mi mente

batalla con la verdad de que hoy día te visito a una tumba.

He aprendido que no necesito dar amor a quienes nunca les he importado

pues si no me amaban antes de tu partida, hoy día ya es tarde.

He aprendido a sufrir en silencio, a llorar solo aquí, en mi corazón,

porque los humanos son expertos en manipular y la debilidad es el pase a lastimar.

Me he vuelto un laberinto de palabras, a veces no sé si vivo o si muero, si lloro por dentro o por fuera. Mis días se convierten en noches al parpadear y tristeza -esa condenada- vive recordándome que ya no tengo Papa.

He aprendido a susurrarle al viento cuanto te extraño,

he aprendido a apreciar esas diminutas vainas que nosotros los vivos ya ni miramos.

Un día creo olvidar el dolor y otros días lucho contra el viento para que no me inunde de oscuridad.

Hoy desperté, entre la confusión de saber dónde me encontraba, y

la esperanza de que esta fecha volviera a ser solamente un ayer,

pero hoy he aprendido que tengo que enfrentar esta verdad y entre mis aprendizajes,

He aprendido amarte a distancia.

"Hay un lugar en donde nunca te olvidare... ese lugar es mi corazón"

Height

Height is the distance between the bottom 

And top, between greatness and madness. 

Height is a jump, is a step, 

And is also a fall.

Few find it intimidating, being at the top, 

Or even at the bottom of any height.

This fear rises from the sensation 

Of an unexpected result.

It is not knowing whether pain

Will be greater at the high of heights,

Or the lowest of height. 

Height can be a challenge, a dream,

Or a person. 

And to me, height is you.

I have always aimed for gentle, loving,

Matured, focused, spiritual,

And darling, you 

Are all of the above. 

You have lay down 

A fine thread for me to cross,

I have you so close, 

Almost a hand away from falling,

And that is where my fear begins. 

I fear you,

I fear having you 

one step closer,

I crash to your being 

In my thoughts.

In every chance I get,

I feed myself a little of

The great man that you are,

And slowly,

All my wounds cease to ache. 

There is fire in the waters below,

I see it from this height but,

I focus on your light,

Trying to make sense of my feelings,

And at the same time 

Channeling some sense into my blood. 

It all makes sense, 

It is clear you will let me slip,

So I let the fool in me take over,

And enjoy the light.

Feed myself a little more, 

Gaze at your eyes long enough,

So that I have something to reminisce 

During my free fall.  

Ultimately that is all I will have,

the memory of a gaze, 

A thought of what never was.

An unreachable height. 

And I will drown once again 

In the waters of fire, 

After a long fall in the madness.

Until the next poem rises from my insides 

Claiming a story that never existed.  

I fear you height.

Autorretrato inspirado en Pablo Neruda

Por mi lado creo ser frágil de piernas, lenta de peso, 

Larga de cabello, ancha de orejas,

Tacaña de ojos, abundante de nariz,

Trigueña de color, dura de manos,

Sincera de a pecho, tierna de amor,

Torpe de cálculos, Admiradora de las olas,

Creyente de la paz, dominicana en abundancia,

Melancólica de poemas, afortunada con los amigos, y los enemigos,

Ocurrente en las madrugadas, amante de los abrazos,

Alcohólica de la Coca-Cola, incansable de sueños,

Apasionada del hablar, tímida del orden,

Cariñosa de la vida, vocera de la injusticia,

Corredora del temor, fría del invierno,

Amante de Dios, grande de Fe y abundante de energía.

Vidas Extraviadas

Tu que sonríes en cada fotografía con ella,
Tu que en tus pensamientos te lastimas a latigazos por aquel abandono,
Tu que de momentos me amas, pero que en otros momentos me odias,
Tu que sonríes en cada fotografía con ella.

Te preguntas si talvez el destino nos pondrá de frente una vez mas,
y porque te mientes? si sabes bien que el encontrarnos no fue solo un hechizo, o un capricho del destino, mas bien un desnudo completo a nuestras almas vulnerables. Un espejo donde solo se reflejaban figuras de apariencia peculiar pero muy similar desde los mas simple detalles, hasta los mas oscuro secretos.


Porque te mientes? de verdad piensas que otro encuentro no causaría el mismo efecto o uno peor? Esto es como iniciar un volcán si esperar erupción.

Tu que de dia vives feliz, pero al atardecer te inundes en los mas temibles abismos, en mis mas terribles pesadillas. En mi mar de poemas, en las sinfonías que le cantas a través de tus pensamientos, a aquel pequeño musculo que marcaste tuyo hace años. Deja de esconderte que dos almas tan semejantes, en diferentes extremos no son peligrosas solo amigosas. 

Talvez te espante con mis preguntas, con mis dudas, con mis cicatrices profundas pero no lo olvides, solo hay un Rey en este pedazo de musculo que cargo en el pecho.

Y aun no se si sera este tu deseable trofeo, tu peor pesadilla o tu mayor triunfo, pero....

El volcán, en nuestra próxima vía lo determinaran.

Love & The Soul

"Our century has become so heartless. In the midsts of all our advanced technology, some of the most important, pure, and honest values have been lost. 

Making it a challenge to encounter something genuine. 

A simple example of this is LOVE. A concept that has become more of a word rather than a feeling. Anyone can say the words, but not everyone is able to put up with the feeling and the responsibility that comes with it. Will you care to care for it? Are you able to hold onto that hand through sweat, tears, and pain? 

Doubts through my head. 

Love is not having experienced many relationships, many dates, or even having given up your chastity to the person you have been with for the past three years." 

That isn't love.

Love isn't a three words text, 

It's an essay.

Love is not having the perfect person, 

is finding perfection in the one person you do have.

Love is not saying the right words, 

it's showing persistence in doing the right thing.

Love is not making plans for the future, 

is living the moment while building a future.

Love isn't making promises, 

is sticking to your own words. 

Love does not burst out in anger and yells "it's over!!" 

love calmly whispers "BRB, I need a break."

LOVE doesn't help you undress only to dress you with lust.

  Love isn't lust. 

    Love isn't lust. 

       Love isn't lust. 

Love is not what you call it and it is what you F E E L.

Love is

S T R E N G T H

in the moments of darkness 

F A I T H

in the hours of loneliness and,

T R U S T

in the minutes of desperation.

Love will grow without permission, 

and invade you when is not welcomed.

Love is passion, 

is fire that can burn but that many times can hurt. 

Love can be defined in so many ways and mean nothing

because is not what you see with your eyes, 

but what you feel with the soul.

The heart? 

is a muscle, almost a myth.

Love comes through the soul not through the mind, 

and if it comes through the heart

is hard to stabilize because the heart is a roller coaster 

that's never satisfied.

The heart seeks war, 

while Love only seeks calm. 

The mind seeks the "why" 

while Love only seeks to drive out, 

inspire, nourish more of itself,

Love. 

I hope you learn to love with all your soul.

Wires

I open my eyes to what feels to be soft and cold, perhaps it is snow that buries my unmovable body. I lay there hoping someone can figure out that I am still alive and, I hear voices calling names but none are calling mine. And that brings me to the question, "what is my name?" 

I remember a room, full of pictures, there is a table with what seems to be sharp knifes and wires. "WIRES!" I can feel the burn of my hands and feet at the memory of those wires, it's a combination of pleasure, pain and warmth to my body. I feel compassion and attraction to the wires. They bring memories, so many memories flushing in and out and, in one second I'm laughing while the next I am crying out of pain. 

I don't understand, the more I let the thoughts flush through my head, the more energy I feel towards the wires. They are burning, crushing my bones, with such intensity that almost brings me to pleasure. I come back to the present and focus on using that energy to free myself from whatever I am under. It's a heavy load, so soft but suffocating and overwhelming, no muscles in move, limited oxygen. I try to touch my face, and it's a complete illusion. There is no moving going on, but I close my eyes and imagine the feeling of my hands in contact with the outside. 

"You're my dream girl" 

It's what I hear, while he ties the wires to my feet. My eyes are open and lively watching everything happen but, the mind is rejoicing in the words, and in everything that flows out of his lips. It's like magic, his lips barely move but every word sounds so sweet, way too sweet. Then, he grabs my hands, the last free thing,  

"I get to marry the girl of my dreams"

and it is as if I volunteer to surrender them, It's a hurtful knot and my pulse raises, but I could care less when I'm dancing with the devil. 

Every morning after that felt like a preparation for a heart attack. The pulses felt stronger but, the physical pain was eased as long as his lips were whispering in my ear. Some days I was standing, others I was sitting, I observed the pictures in the room which none made sense. Pictures of letters, pictures of other pictures, shoes, notebook, bracelets, a t-shirt, a mug, a wallet. There is no correlation between the objects but, I know I've seen them before. I try to remember why I'm tied up again, but I struggle as much as I struggled to remember my name in reality. I asked questions, but they seem to have turned him violent towards me, and I breathe in as I watch the knifes flying my way. I take a few steps back and crumble to the bed, quick enough to remember that I am all tied up. "Ahhh" there is the pain, the pain in my reality, pain in my illusion, pain in my memories, from what? from moving? the wires? from a knife piercing my soul? I never understood the rules of the game, was I suppose to surrender and never question? was I suppose to stand quietly and never doubt? Or, was I suppose to believe everything was told and given, and be satisfied with it?  

The flashbacks become more vivid, and the weight from the snow begins to intensify as the pain from the memories do. I remember passing out on the ground, tied up and naked to my soul. I said little before closing my eyes, but whatever I said was enough for him to untied the wires. And it burned, it burned so much, so, so, so much. I was free but the pain was worst than the knifes crushing me, than the wires accelerating my heart beat, than the "almost a heart attack" feeling every morning. "Take it as a lesson learned, never defy love" were the last words before I close my eyes. 

I come back to reality, and I'm numb. I think the snow have frozen my body again, and it makes sense since the memory of the wires is gone. I hear a sound, I cannot make up the words but, someone is getting closer, and they are yelling desperately, almost nervously, but I am tired, I want to sleep now. It's getting closer but I canno--

"PAM!"