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?

The streets.

Untitled it's my heart,
and blank as this notepad
when I first opened it.

I listen to the sweet words of love,
tasting the eco silence of broken homes. 

No emptiness lives in me yet my streets are solitary.

I don't search for adventures yet 

the enigma of life hunts me. 

And whenever I doubt myself, 

I remember that I am stronger than before because after all those bombs,
I've become immune to love.

I live in an empty battle, 

walk my streets
stepping on dry blood.

I wonder if the sun
has ever wanted to enlight my world.

As I walk my familiar streets
I get the feeling of Robert Neville.
"Where's my sam?" 

I say and laugh.
-No human being would like to be next to
you. You're a monster remember that.-
is those silly thoughts 

that keep me cold. 

My hands numb and my eyes,
dark.

"I'd like to think I'm a pretty
monster at least" 

so I run my cold fingers 

through my hair
as if that would 

make a difference...

"Trust me. I will never hurt you"
words that still bounce in my head.

I leave my world for two seconds

and remember the hot weather, 

the petty kiss, given.
I rewind the last walk,

the last hug, as I

Loose Internal Energy Slowly.

I come back to my world 

and realize I've been walking 

in circles for the past
couple of hours.

It's getting colder, 

so I kiss the air goodbye. 

And start walking back

to my home. 

A pesar de la soledad, soy libre.

I tell myself.

La obra falsa

Ya paro aqui de llover,
ya no duele mi voz al beber.
Tomo dos copas y baja el telon,
de esta historia falsa de amor.
Veo actores como juegan mi papel, y me pregunto
si morire esta vez por culpa de un maldito error.

Tomo el riesgo por quinta vez, soy sincera
y torpe a la vez. Empieza la lluvia y la escucho caer,
al ritmo del sonido de mi corazon. Mis latidos van muriendo
al compas del amor.Queman mis entrañas por culpa del alcohol.
bendito Smirnoff!
 
Mi alma tiene la dicha de sentir, y aveces ser feliz.
Pero dentro de la historia, de la obra, o vida real, vivo muriendo,
acaso no soy real? Ya mis alas van desapareciendo, muero lento y
rapido a la vez. Baja el telon tan rapido como baja el alcohol.
Muero por quinta vez, en esta obra falsa de amor.

P. 75

There is nothing else but broken hearts,

in this solitary life of mines. Nothing

else still alive, in this battle field of life.

Blood running through empty streets.

Amazing to see, all this pain she has caused to me.

Amazed to see all the wounded hearts,

Surprising to know I'm not the only one,

she played. Is she happy to see all this pain, I wonder.

Is she able to sleep in peace, alone.

A cold blooded person with no mercy for love.

Your words were nothing, Still are nothing just, empty holes.

Just throwing that out there

Such an intense life of mines.
See, my world -or perhaps-
our world tends to give me
this intuitions of who to trust.
Yet, the heart -this piece of
muscle I carry around-
is just as intense as the mind.
So, when these communist rebellious,

stubborn organs reach both

of its level, their

energies as if part of an

Equilibrium cancel out

to cause this neutral, empty,

zero gravity feeling that

drives me to the insane yet

pacific world of poetry.

Unfortunately this phase

can only last for so long

and at the end, the heart

takes the last stand on my rational

decisions.

Stubborn, spoiled, little

piece of shit.

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