From queen to goat

I will tell you a secret :

When I was a teen I liked to play queer
To use make up
To kiss boys and girls
To fuck them too
I used to wear like a drag queen
And with my girlfriend
We went to party like that
We two
All glitter and drag

Then I grew up
I stopped making a queen of myself
I even stopped kissing boys,
Only girls

Now I use a beard and I like to play it wild
Rude, raw
I use to drink too much and
To tear some bars down

Is strange
When I think about my past
How much I changed

From being the queen to be
The satanic goat that I’m

Self destruction and hate (I can be such an asshole sometimes)

I am
Such an asshole sometimes
And that’s not all
I just
Pee over the chances
I’m jeopardizing myself
And this life
Is not to be lived alone

I am
Such an asshole sometimes
Most of the time
I feel like a stupid fuck
And I sit in my room
Watching Star Trek
Star Wars
Reading comics
… Such a geek !!!

I just
Lost another chance
By being too much drunk
I promise to myself not be drunk again
Stop drinking
But I can’t pull the stop

I’m driving fast
In the road
Of self destruction and hate
And I think
I’m going to crash
over my dead body

Anonymous Sea

It’s a sea out there
A sea of faces, of people, of indiference
It’s a sea out there
In the streets
And we all hide under the anonymous air that we
And In the shadows we are free
To love
To dream
To live
Only in the shadows
Our shadows
Our damned shadows
And the anonymous of the streets

The sea is immense
And we hardly know each other
Even our mothers
Seem to not recognize
And we are afraid to say hello
To say goodbye
I love you
I like you
Want to fuck ?
We are afraid
Of living
Of breathing
Of being judged by others that are afraid of being judged by others that are afraid
And we chain ourselves to a life of slaves
And we stop ourselves for feeling

It’s a sea out there
But the drying of feelings is turning the ocean
Into a

We are killing
The love
We are killing

I had a dream

Surrealismo …

El diario de Lilith

Qué vacío que está todo y este frío que punza los huesos. La banda sonora de este sueño enfermo es el eco de las incansables gotas que se fugan en algún lugar de este recinto viejo y lúgubre y las voces de algunas mujeres que vienen desde lejos.

Unos pasos atrás camina mi hermano mayor. Tosco y serio, de piel negra. No lo había visto antes, pero sé que no vamos a hablar mucho, que hay un muro entre nosotros.

Al final de un pabellón con mosaicos decimonónicos y un gran patio de luz a mi derecha nos espera una enfermera joven, un rostro que nunca he visto antes. Según la teoría que leí alguna vez, su rostro lo construí yo. Debe tener algún rasgo de mi mamá, de mi novio, del portero del edificio donde trabajo o de la señora que siempre espera el bus en el mismo lugar…

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Sometimes I think about
stop writing
I feel my words empty
Not telling nothing.

Sometimes I think about
Ending it all
Without pain
Just give up
Throw the towel and don’t look back.

Thanks God I think about it only

The little pigeon

Yesterday I found a pigeon
In the door of my work
He was dead
His eyes drained of life
and sad
Fixed in the remoteness, far away of this world.
I felt sad but
I take him and put him in the garbage,
What else could I do ?

Now he is free, the little pigeon
Free to fly at the side of God
Free to poo over us, stupid mortals,
And laugh.

Goodbye little pigeon,
See you on the other side.