Thoughts 2r11p

TOUGHTS Poetry of an antisocial Wesc Igne

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS For “She”, a girl who, to this day makes my mind on her side. This is only the beginning of something much bigger. Wesc Igne.

Table of Contents

Nonsense 1 What is hidden No function She 1 A day without emotion Mind of a writer without a world If I had a Heart 1 If I had a Heart 2 No Sense Part 2 If I had a Heart 3 The end of a cycle Nonsense 4 Extra She 2 She 3 Eyes She taught me Confession

Nonsense 3 Lifetime Mouth When I write What I can't hide A life to Fired Love enger Thought Butterfly Fallen friend I win? Light glitters Might? A mission I can not do it? Yes She 5 The fisherman Because? It goes like this

Again Distant future Far from it all Other Yesterday Author's Words

Nonsense 1.

It is the whisper of a child or the song of a baby, perhaps the despair of an old man wishing to be born again. If emotions get out of your heart, they shouldn't leak out. But the feelings scatter, thinking that they might come back in. Ignoring the reason for his delay, he plays with his mind dreaming of breaking all his ties. Giving slight sighs, causing the child to cry without tears, but scream with the heart, to jump and plunge into the sea of desolation. And if that were not enough, their laughter does not cease, instead they agitate demonstrating their authority... well, I think that it will not be possible to stop.

What is hidden.

Ilook out the window , dry branches interpose between the watery scrolls of the shoreline. A bird runs through the valley, scrutinizing the sound of the wind whipping the trees. As the seasons go by they fell on the ground, there are sheets that tell how they have ed their sorrows. Further west, after the fork, a castle hides asking for an atonement, now its moments of glory are barely visible. They have poked at your memories by hiding it from people. Then the joys advance slowly just like the breeze of the air, if I inhale it too hard I will forget the reason for the trip.

No function.

Ihave flat gleams in incongruous towers, unfinished constructions aspiring madness. An attraction that climbs the mountain, ending in front of a hotel that never opened its doors. At his right hand the smoke runs through its landscapes. Below two boats compete for tourists. And from all this, what do I gain by observing? Maybe hide my strange thoughts. Because once they come in I can't stop them. Since a burning flame is difficult to hide and even more so if it is inside you. I feel clouds that run through my skin, rise until deformed and descend to recharge their doubts.

She 1.

Balance my comfort zone. She is placed in a different ovation, concern that resembles a cyclone, there is no human capable of controlling her, her beauty as such is without a doubt the reason for my downfall. With honey-colored hair, which radiates brilliance through the reflection of the sun. His eyes hypnotize me, the right so intense drawing my attention and the left so clear reflecting his love. He hates the simple, but is attracted to the differences, you will never know what he is thinking. Full of energy, it looks like a star, it shakes my mind creating flashes of Light, which disappear every time I lose it. And when you think you know, change course, it leaves you without imagining how to respond. I fell in love without realizing it, I am no longer aware of myself, she encomes my mind and controls my body. Sometimes their murmurs torment me indicating that it is not over yet, and perhaps it is only part of my imagination, but when I feel that I can no longer do it. Something inside his mind prompts me to continue.

A day without emotion.

This day I will not write as usual, this time the air has not blown slowly, rather it was like a torrent that vanished in the gloom of innocence. The sun did not fall on my forehead, it only avoided me, and to think that I wanted today to be special, but like everything in my life sometimes it goes wrong. But there was a flash, a simple glow among all that darkness, it was that signal that gave me a little strength. Although between search and search my impetus is restless, and again you still do not appear. Tell me the truth, are you here, or are you just a product of my dreams, it is so stupid to think that seeing you would make my heart beat strong, or that I would have a strange feeling. But instead I still don't feel the slightest agitation, and that bothers me because no matter how hard I try I can't love, no matter how hard I try, tears don't appear. I came to the conclusion that I was not born to find love, then what remains for me... tell me, what are you good for, heart.

Mind of a writer without a world.

Ifeel the cold that my hands give off, it is a pain that runs through my skin. With tired eyes and vacant gaze, I feel the emptiness in my chest become relevant. What happened, maybe the joy is over, my voice faded and I only emanate pain. Could it be that my eyesight has failed me, because everything I see seems bloody to me. And it is that I realize that the problem is not in the world, nor in people, the only culprit is this mind that distorts the truth. Hiding it with masks since my only hope is to find love. It may seem stupid... but it is the only truth, and for now I can only wait to see how this festival concludes. And when he explores the different personalities, he expresses sincerity all his ills, the worries of yesterday or the aspirations of tomorrow. I think it may be the ties of the present chasing you for no apparent reason. It is poured or mixed. Reason or think. But the flow of the day does not stop because you want it to.

If I had a Heart 1.

It may not be the best option and maybe the ideals were turned off along with all the needs, and now I just think about screaming. There are five days of regret full of suffering, the hours , then the weeks and nothing happen in my mind. The fog lights you up, the fire wets me, the sun brings darkness and the dawn is saddened, your gaze fades, but time is waiting. The flowers wither and the aroma of the morning is no longer felt. I have two options, you live forever or I die of pain and the only thing I get is love sickness.

If I had a Heart 2.

Ifeel within me a peaceful darkness, slowly spreading making me suffer. My sorrows increase, doubts are cleared and the pain of a loss remains clinging to my soul. I feel you distant, without seeing you in my reflection, without listening to you in my mind, and without feeling your hand caress my hair. Even if you don't really exist, I refuse to believe it. Can you think with your heart or love with your brain? I really don't know, but I'm sure I'll find out one day. Because, What is love? A false obsession. What is pain? A slight feeling. So what is reality, just the perception of what I really feel, no... I don't think so. For me, what is defined as reality is nothing more than a sigh of time. If you can see, feel, hear and perceive the scents of a person... What prevents it from being real? Ahh...I know, it's the impression of your brain. False needs, but they resemble their inequalities. Uncertain fears that are reflected in your back and although I do not feel anything. Does she know that my gaze pursues her?

No Sense Part 2.

To see you again, I will have to promote a few of your light, to know how to get there I will steal a little hope and I will only aspire to meet your gaze. Because I know that you exist, since you send me signals affirming that you are not a sham, and I know that somewhere you also dream, a place that I may never be able to reach. But to see I will have to fly, to know that you are real I have to break the barrier and light an arrow to launch it into your heart and awaken my love in you. And if I want to know how long you have waited, I have to learn to dream by your side, be stronger than your fears and plant an immense sky with you. Since when flying next to you my agony disappears, leaving a puddle where my stupid things used to be. That are evoked inaudible murmurs, missing the happiest moments of your life, dying with time that exerts pressure, affirming that life is not simply an illusion. In the false despair, or lies that I told you, all in order to hear you say: "I told you, but you didn't listen to me, now what are you going to do... look for me again"

If I had a Heart 3.

Ifeel like they took away everything that had the messages of my life, the calls of your soul, but it doesn't matter, it's all over now. I don't have time, I have nothing left, I continue aimlessly at my only stop. I have no direction, not even a word, I was lost, alone and without hope, the hours are eternal, the days unthinkable, the bonds of life become unattainable. Few thoughts remained, I would have loved to meet you some time ago, but I know that in the future, I will see you again and I hope that you do not leave that day and that you at least leave me a glimpse of your gaze.

The end of a cycle.

The kiss of the first love, the pain of a goodbye. Sorrows, joys, laughter and nonsense, fleeting afflictions, true feelings. Although it is over, I say see you soon, it would be silly to say goodbye. Because wherever we go, it doesn't matter if the years go by, fate will unite us again. Since as we said... we will always be friends. Arghhh... as if that's true, those so-called friends aren't always a reality. Do you when they told you: Friends forever. Now you look at them, and they pretend not to see you, they ignore you without sense. Ohh... but that you are surprised, if friendship is nothing more than a relationship of codependency, if they need you they look for you, and if you need them you look for them. Do not cling or create childish feelings, as everything can vanish in an instant. But don't listen to me, I'm just a stranger who writes incessantly, ing the times when I could dream.

Nonsense 4.

In a diverse story , the connoisseurs are exposed to represent the characters that produce the side. The reason for your power cannot be known, but I can anticipate what you want to be. And with another situation my notion is exposed and from my heart there is an explosion. By the light the darkness is caused, and from it the light is born again, for such a reason that perhaps I fantasized about my disguise, resembling your personality. That does not rule or fail, does not seek but finds. He calls you from a distance, stealing a few words from you. It is lost in the sea, but it floats in the air, it plunges into the earth, hiding from the flesh. She explodes for no reason, but she fights with sense, she tells me not to chase her but to call me when she decides. 16-5-19-1-4-9-12-12-1-19

Extra.

Several months have ed, time changes the way you think, but if you are willing to try I will do my best. To see that feeling that is exposed by your way of reasoning. I'll try a barrage of thoughts, and I don't know, maybe... it will work out in my favor. I would ask for your advice, but I know this is not the time, sometimes I want to be quiet but the words come to my mind. And all I do is keep writing, although I keep in mind that what I write will never become important, I once promised a girl that I would at least try not to stay in the pond. But for me it is more than a hobby, it is the way I express myself. Write not to speak, think to cry, laugh to hide and observe so as not to forget. Maybe one day I will find that person and stop being who I am, but in the meantime I wait for her, so I will continue playing this hunter riddle.

She 2.

What is what I want ? What am I longing for? Not even I am sure of that... but, when I sit in front of the window and watch the ing of the clouds, which at dusk reflect the sunlight. I feel happy... no, it is not happiness, it is peace, a tranquility for me. And at that moment I start to think about many things. My motive for living is the good of others. I am not afraid of dying, but I am afraid of losing my loved ones. I would like to have a dream lover, but I know it is a childish fantasy. There are people who are not born to know love, we have to wander the world attached to loneliness. Live to yearn and dream to stay sane, explore the corners of your mind just to feel alive, what made you happy, and forget how unhappy. But how to do it when the words reach your helmet, when you them in each post in your group, you see them walking in front of you, holding hands having a great time. But you pretend to be fine, or at least you don't show how much it hurts, and the only thing left for you is to smile, yeah, make an empty smile every time they turn to look at you, or when they ask that fucking question. Are you OK. And although it has been a long time since that, and when I finally resign myself forgetting her. Yesterday when I checked my phone, as it kept going down, suddenly in a post someone tagged it. The worst thing is that deep in my heart I still had the slight wish, or the small illusion that they would end. And that I could return to her side, within that dream I would finally make her happy, I would make the right decisions, decisions that I should have done when I had the moment. Every day makes her smile, create good memories because that's what people live on.

Rest my head on her shoulder and calm me with her breath, take her to that field where I said I love you for the first time, or dance to that song that she loved but that I hated. Send in a note, my sincere wishes for every day that I do not spend by his side, and when the time comes to deliver my promise of love deposited in a ring, to spend the rest of my life by his side. And show her that for her I could change, ignore the doubts of my being and dedicate myself to what she wants to do... but, in the photograph she was... And a baby by his side. 19-21-5-14-15-19

She 3.

He asks me to be quiet , that my words do not express what they have told me, that if I cannot bear it I’ll give up. If I don't have the strength, don't try... but can I just stand? I have the right not to try. The tear of a cloud mixes with the fire of my soul, it reminds me that days are ing but that words are hidden in time. They do not advance, but feel, they do not forget, but are omitted, how difficult it is for someone to say a favor, apparently not as much as asking for forgiveness. But I can't get the words out, at least not with my mouth, she expected me to tell her, but in the end I didn't have the courage. And is that sometimes the fear of failure reaches you, doubts are mixed with what you should say, thus letting him take the lead. I wanted to lift her out of the loop she was in, but before I was able to express what I was feeling, she got tired and left because she no longer loved me. He regretted knowing me or forgot about me forever, what he told me later was that: She can no longer continue with someone who does not want to move forward, so even if it hurts, you have to forget me.

Eyes.

My eyes get lost in the morning, but I get them back in the afternoon, they take a trip through the air, they show me the best places to rest, when I should breathe and when I don't need to speak. They presume there will, but yearns for freedom, they are subject to me, but they do not obey me. I need them to feel, but if I wanted to...I wouldn't have them. I stand in front of them asking for an explanation and all I get is a tear of love. 4-5-13-15-14-9-15-19

She taught me

Rolling on the ground , I found a butterfly. She was so cute and bright, just beautiful. She taught me to fly without having wings, to walk without being on the ground, to breathe underwater and to immerse myself in my sorrows. I dug a facade of lies only to find a hole, where my joy was supposed to be. He said to bet my boldness, without shedding fearlessness, explore yearnings and no longer deny the misprint.

Confession

And it is as simple as the truth. 2 words can change the heart. First love can mean everything. But the selfishness of being young shouldn't be an excuse. Just as the clouds in winter cry, I would like the wind to remind you of a simple sentence: Falling in love hurts, not knowing it, it’s worse. Since, to say that I would forget you, was a poor fantasy. Denying that I long for your arms is like hiding that I was a clown. But smiling while I see you on the altar is my way of accepting that there is someone who did show you what it is to love. 16-15-4-5-18-5-19

Nonsense 3

As I watch the sunset , I think about my existence. Sometimes I would like to dissolve like smoke from a chimney, share the secrets of the air, tell them to the birds and be part of their group. Migrating between seasons and getting to know other cities, pretending to be an insect to propagate the floral lineage. One day, fighting with a cat for stealing my resting place, another, chase cars to pretend that I'm happy. It is because of these kinds of thoughts that I prefer to sleep, in the dreams I can be a million characters without the fear of accepting my reality. Because to be a hero you just have to close your eyes and get to work. This is how the strangest moments will become interesting. Without knowing it, I hallucinated and without asking, I woke up again.

Lifetime

Who shares a drop of blood and a drop of joy... both are necessary for life to exist. Can we say that we are alive when we are not able to laugh, a smile can mean so many things to a person who has had a bad day. But if by hiding your pain you can get him to not worry, I suppose you should practice glimpses of joy without feeling the suffering. Cry without being happy and then sleep in the rain, and that everything progress without needing the hands of the clock. 4-9-1-18-9-15-19

Mouth

There are messages that I have not been able to transmit, words that have remained in my throat and days that I have wished would never . Repenting of yesterday, betting on tomorrow, abandoning the present and it is that being absent I feel part of the group. I'm tied to a chain that gets shorter every day, painting spider webs, capture butterflies, and picking apples, planted roses. More on a sunny day I warmed my mouth, spit a coin and forgot what I care about. Why deny what you feel? If you lie when it is provoked, but what you cannot bear is not torn from your mind.

When I write

Writing without motivation is like analyzing an illusion, you will not find sense, even if you write a whole book. You find studs that can't be removed, as well as people that aren't worth mentioning. Headaches that last forever, such as rocks falling from a slope. If you dig in the water you will find motivation, but if you swim with the plants you will nail your heart.

What I can't hide

The rapture that I hide floats in my right hand, I do not avoid that it is due to my lack of attachment to small moments. But... it is not the great acts that make your skin crawl, that roar from the most beautiful meridian. He is told to look for what is not found, but if you cannot find the reason for your existence, what is the point of playing a game that has no harvest. I have fragments of talent that do not arrive at certainties, although if I put the pieces together at least I compose this one. I've learned all my life that leaving is not the same as letting go and that you shouldn't always lift your head. Like when you close your eyes due to the laziness of not listening, the advice of chance.

A life to

Iapproach a flower and ask her about her problems, she says that there are days when she does not feel the air, the water that runs through her skin no longer satisfies her. She has wanted to tear off her foundations and germinate again, she supposes that the restart is better than the end. Lost petals withered by the sun, he assumes that they are memories buried in the heart. She does not care if the tide takes her away, she confesses that it would be a better ending than ending up observing the same image, the one that only reminds her of how a girl promised to visit her every summer. Telling him about his travels and about that ephemeral song, which began with a: ... It was the last thing he said before wilting. Her life was not enough to finish explaining, what was that song that made her .

Fired

If you have to go back , you don't need to mention it, that's already usual. One more needle doesn't make a difference, what a shame. If only yesterday the rope was spinning, it will be that time has gone by counting how many clouds there were in our breasts. But calm down, I'll just do the usual, breathe slowly and hard until I forget the reason for your arrival. Thank you for not skipping this evening, and I hope your steed does not run out of water when gloom falls. Goodbye Day Lily, you came like a storm, whipping my heart and salting the wound, only to make fun of this fish and later return to the bay.

Love

There is no time for pain, only scars remain, time es slowly, there is no one to control it. I continue without any love, but with feeling, I see the days go by very full of regrets. What do I have to do to make you look back, because a thousand storms can come, and none of them will stop me from loving you. Even if the world says no and the flame goes out, even if I die of pain I will always wait for you. Do not give up halfway, that in the end everything will make sense, because if we do not find the way, we will create one. Because an impossible love tastes better. Now if there is time for love, the scars are erased. Listen to your heart he always asks for forgiveness. Respect for the one who loves, thanks for the one who cries and if one day that affection ends, he will always value you. So don't forget.

enger Thought

At the time that I have been in this place I have noticed many things like... sometimes you don't get what you want, if you don't get what you need. But what if I need a lot of things? ...very good things can happen to people who least deserve it, or when you expected something that you have longed for with a lot of desire in the end it never comes. Even the girl or boy you like is with someone else, that life constantly reminds you that you are deep down and with every drop of hope you receive it sends you a torrent of disappointments. And that without knowing it, many people do not like you and they often make fun of you or your friends (or so they called themselves), they leave you alone and they only look for you when they need something from you. Or that group of people who on the last day of classes tell you that they will never forget you and that whatever happens will keep in touch, but after a few months everything is forgotten. And finally, when you strive for something that no one wants, understands or tells you not to do, it finally works out for you. They are the same people who tell you: I always ed you. What hypocrisy, but if I think about it, we are all hypocrites at some point, we fake a greeting, or a gesture just to please others, thinking that maybe we can fit in. But after everything I've been through, it's time to reset my mind, I'll find a place to start again. To get away from the problems and temporary torments, I will try to reach the place that I once promised that person... Ahh...I will achieve it or I will give up on the attempt, I do not know. But it's a fact, my life can't go on like this. I say goodbye to anyone who has read this, thank you for taking a bit of your time.

Butterfly

Iwant to tell my secrets to an alevilla, she is an enigma of four hemispheres, sometimes she perches on my head stirring up my ideas. He travels the moors blowing problems, if he confessed the manifesto, what would he think? It would take him to the cloud by injecting melodies. It has changed to know what it is not, in the days to come. But what he hides is infamous for sowing fear. It is anguish or rejection that I smell... No, possibly it is the vestiges of the chrysalis that have clung to their creed. Begging a barrage of questions for so many ownerless answers, I find it crazy that it doesn't reveal all those petal with thoughts. Although perhaps it is my eyes that are distorted, focus your wings, but they no longer get wet.

Fallen friend

Adog that does not know forgiveness, his cries move the clouds, the waves of the sea roar for his smile, the one that stagnated next to the breezes. Afflicted by bones more forgotten than kisses, those without the grace that were done out of habit, that at the beginning of the journey were emitted with feeling but with the age of time they stopped having gamut. The carpet is his companion, it doesn't matter if it gets dirty, she will comfort him, because the specks of dust share the bond between the two. It will be the end for this old guardian, his loving days will be over, if so, pity for the person who pretended to take care of him. Of the moments in his memory, this is the one in which he was congratulated for picking up the ball. I say goodbye to you, faithful friend, thank you for everything transmitted, I would have liked to meet you when you still believed what people were saying.

I win?

You can savor victory without tearing defeat, I have competed with a word killer, I tested the gears of paper by spitting out the shadows. The competition was close, the aftermath shows in my day to day. Every time I hit the keyboard the ideas disappear as if I had never been quoted. Gaining headaches, I dared to paint silhouettes of knowledge so that perhaps the memory of what was experienced would clear the loop of what was conceived. In the adjacent dimensions, I cleared the insane veils, I sign my projects and the blind people anonymously. If two become one, one is reborn, although if there are none left... as I do to believe.

Light glitters

Ipick up a fragment of light, it tinkles on my hand, it's so fleeting, it doesn't know what's wrong. Sometimes it floats a bit, changes colors and sinks in the mud. Draw nonsense letters and characters, just to capture what the wind says. Of all that he has shown me three things I have forgotten. The morning sermons, the convicting smiles, and the gestures he displayed when he was in a bad mood. In the last summer, it shone brightly, it was an omen, its rest was approaching. As he said goodbye, fluttering through the leaves, he whispered: No longer choose randomly, choose with your heart, sometimes what you want is behind the curtain.

Might?

Unexpected fortune , false hesitations, pride destroyed by minor fears. Rocks that look like dust on pillars of salt, perhaps love she wanted to erase. The inherent inherent that seems to converge is palpable with the fingers of the subconscious. But she doesn't hide the balloons of emotions tied to her locks of hair, every time she sighs, it clears my memory. In love with her impurity I pursue sadness, if I had a chance, would she let herself be loved? It could show you that a period does not mean the end, and that things that matter can be fixed.

A mission

On a night trip, the roots of a Hyperion embraced me, connecting with its interior I obtained a revelation. Two silhouettes fought over foolish ideas, raising the banners of false activism, implanting humanitarian arguments brimming with cynicism in brains. And the masses ignorant of the plan, a cause in order to win alike. Wake them up!! The Hyperion yelled at me, start the counterattack before there are no more drops without corruption. But, what can I do? Alone ant doesn't make a difference in that typhoon. But the others agreed and with doubts, hesitations and a bit of preparation, they began an operation to restore courage. Good luck, I told them from the shadows, at this moment I can't help them. But you are free to take control of this body, I hope it will at least serve you as a conductor.

I can not do it?

In future channels I have rowed against the current, stolen sighs of profit for being ignorant. I wanted to pretend the pain on my back by tattooing a claw that evokes a direction, cutting off my devotion, tearing a blowtorch to replace yesterday. In the pink feather I caress a fragment, that does not change, it is eternal without movement. I am bitter with my helplessness, wanting to cross out mistakes, but I can't. The pencil splintered, the notebook of life has been closed, leaving me on a tack anchored to its cave. But if only a closer distance from his soul were mine, I would end all the dances and let myself be carried away by the joys.

Yes

Ilive with remorse for being born in a seed, nuts go a long time without knowing the outside world and outwardly I get problems when the plastic sticks to my skin. You cannot see it, much less touch it, it advances slowly succumbing to the desire to be cut from the list of renown. So by the lesson I die without honor, my signature is erased from the walls for only achieving minor achievements. It is unfortunate not to have a goal, especially if it is forgotten along the way when you try to achieve it.

She 5

Ilove when you ignore me or pretend in public or know me, it makes me realize that the thorns of a rose are part of its appeal. But it hurts, knowing it doesn't lessen the pain. In the same way, when you kiss me with those alcohol-flavored lips, I forget that I am your anchor and I let myself be carried away by the moment. How slow is love, sometimes hard to find but easy to forget. In your hands I try to record my pulse, so that in a few weeks, when you get bored of me again, at least you won't forget what my heartbeat was like.

The fisherman

There is a lonely house on the top of the mountain, who lives inside it is an old fisherman. On its walls, he has hung all his dance instruments, at night he used to compete with the moon. He challenged the horizon in search of a fish capable of sinking his strength, so over the years that show of nobility collected his debts. Today he is not even able to hold a hook, every day he screams at the wind, angry with that fish that he never found and that even without existing took his life. And it is that by seeking excellence, the brave decrease, a solo adventure is only a simple deception if you do not have direction. Along with the intelligence to it minor mistakes.

Because?

Many people, throughout my life, have asked me why I do not relate to others, because I am so serious. I have never been able to give you a clear answer, my mind is divided into many pieces, so when I try to explain myself, the agony distorts my words. When I want to greet them, anger distorts my expression, when someone tells a joke sadness possesses my eyes. And when a tragedy occurs, joy thinks that it is its duty to make my lips unable to stop. It is for these things and much more that I avoid approaching a person, since I have not owned my body for a long time. The only time I can rest is when I write, it can be a letter or a small paragraph, but that is when the voices stop and for a few minutes I can remain silent.

It goes like this

Ihave been wanting for years to lose consciousness, for my mind to turn white and not think about anything. I have kept an empty mask, sometimes drawing a smile, sometimes dispersing joy. To hide that I am in a hurry to disappear from this reality. And is that by pretending to be okay, everything went wrong. For imitating yesterday I forgot who I was, only a heart remained with a hint of an illusion. The one that promised... so many wonders, but you see, two different destinations do not even share the same being. There is only one way and this, even if I don't want to, is the one that I had to see.

Again

Watching the waves , I re-analyze everything, rocks, sand, and foam. Everything is the same, the murmurs float in your hair and nobody intervenes. Who would say at this time would you, no one explained to me that in time dreams would return. And without waiting for a call, I keep my cell phone next to me. Dancing with my mind, hoping to reach you and be able to all the kisses that were stolen from you. Come on, come back, dance with me, let's put our canvases together and have a new story painted. Do not forget that my heart is like a homeless puppy, which has long awaited a new owner.

Distant future

Dreaming of laughing , playing screaming, the verse of a mind makes me sigh. In a relaxed state it adjusts its balance, the shell protecting the feeling as it fights hard to stop the pieces of its heart. Fog blows that evades him, sometimes early, sometimes in summer, but yesterday lightning broke the routine, as he advanced his medicine. With transcendent calculations, he fills in the brush, paints a few strokes and the engine simply starts again. ing torture, he dresses a portion, closes nuclei and increases the revolution.

Far from it all

Beyond a distant future , in the middle of your soul and my mistakes, is the promise of a ghost. She licked the ignorance of a rootless fruit, climbed walls, floated between colors, vaguely added vestiges of pain with each note. He stopped to tease when he tried to touch her, backed off slowly when he couldn't hide his grudges. That's how she is, a difficult enigma to write, although I wanted to explain her motives, I am afraid that her eyes deny what she experienced. But it's not so bad, yes, I think about it very well, that's how I'm better when I can't see it.

Other

My hands want to play with the dust, to try to feel what the universe hides. It is tangible, but it starts with theories, it is movement, but it vibrates with the strings. Nobody has seen the center and yet they affirm its existence, many have not touched the sky, but part of the clouds are felt. They frost my glasses for so much ignorance, they attack the signals, it does not matter, they do not know. But if they knew the play they might cry tomorrow, the sea warned me, don't trust those people who like to smile. They use that happiness to hide the abyss of their being, I ignored their advice and, well... here you have me again.

Yesterday

Anight ago I talked with my shadow and within the eclectic arguments, a caress arose. An animation captures the flow of energy, I aimed at it, but... there was no life. The charcoal had no idea, the mirrors cracked and the camera projected a movie of her wielding my crown. I avoided his gaze, swung the blade, blocked his thrust, but cut my clothes off. While my blood mixes with the grass, I hug her and repeat many times that it was not her fault, to try to calm her down. And when my vision fades, I can see how his smile reappears, because at least he was able to learn how to live without being my copy. Also, how to escape from this mantra when the night suffocates me.

Author's Words

Well, first I want to thank everyone who has read this book and given it a chance. Although it is not very long, each "poem" means a lot to me, as I said in the description I have written them for a few years and until now they have only been gathering dust. I apologize if anyone was upset that they thought I would find poems as such, but it was easier for me to express myself this way and not have to follow a set of rules. At the end I want to say 2 things, the first is that this is the beginning of something much greater. In a couple of months I will publish a fantasy novel, romance...with illustrations and photographs based on real events. I would like to say more, but I am not allowed to do so, just to say that it revealed very interesting things. The second is that in some "poems" there are intentional misspellings, because each one hides a secret / mystery or puzzle. And that by solving it, they will get a clue or advance of the next book. Now, yes, see you Dreaming Warriors. Each L = N A capital letter can be the beginning of something. An italic too. A sentence can have many meanings.