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Oblivion

you run out of time. For me? I ran out of patience.

My fingers do not bleed. Neither my eyes, my heart.

opportunities were lost, fell into the void, that emptiness that fills you, that you will be empty forever owner.

Oblivion happy greets me warmly received. We make a pact, we provide for you. It's the end of a story full of ghosts and lies. The final purest of lost time spent on you. The end of an error that left a mark that is cleared slowly with the comings and goings of the waves of my immense future and voracious. It's the end of the worst of my mistakes.

I ran out of patience and willingness to wait. I thank you for proving once again that I was very big you, that do not fit in my dreams, in my hands you lose, that my lips do not fit, not anymore. I took off my mask, I removed your deceit, the stars disappeared lowered your each of your lies and the darkness back into oblivion, your vacuum. And no matter what you give away your body to anyone who wants to have it, was beautiful, yes, sorry to be yours. It does not matter that others try to kiss my lips ready to kiss you, I'll never in your skin or in their own language or on his face. Condemned to live my shadow, my memory and my forgetfulness, which is as much yours as I was, poisoned by the nectar in your mouth and accuracy of your strokes, your skin of silk and inexplicable light in your eyes when merged with mine ...

I do not escape me in words, and I can not escape the anxiety or the desire to look and feel. Since I can not escape the memories in tears, and I bite my lips to express your taste. It does not matter where you are or with whom. Your borders do not matter or your ridiculous and cruel sarcasm. And do not mind. It is the beginning of your end.

is the end of everything that moved me. The end of your apathy and your selfishness. The end of your blackmail and your cowardice. The end of my wounds and my lonely days wasted on you ... you rip my wings. I go with my freedom to beg and scream it's time to leave.

is the beginning of me.

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I wanted to be the N Øystein your Eternity. . .

. . . of your Infinity.

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Noys End

back to a past unnecessary.

keep waiting long?

I'm mad at me. To feel that disappointment, that emptiness deep unbearable in here that keep your eyes open and smile. I bleed inside, internal suicide, violating my own desires and emotions. Victimizing of my own story, in which both space and plenty of solitude so wet. The aroma of clove smoke coming out of my mouth wraps the serenity of the deep ocean me. I am strangely calm, resigned, boring, boring reading you, bored and disgusted with your lack of courage, of your apathy and conformist repulsively contradictory. Disgusted that I face it, they prefer to live without me and pretend to be indifferent ... indifferent due to the distance between your body and mine, invisible borders that you built for knowing you safe from the madness and fear, because the desire and the desire to escape our eyes so whenever we're face to face, feelings seep through the pores, each time you fusionándote pupils delight in mine, every time you cross my legs with your eyes so obvious and your smile spontaneously. Indifferent, believing you your own farce, when your eyes will cry so much in my soul that nerves betray you and pretend your self utopian, filling every space on your sadness erratic and passive. Bored to see how you keep trying to deceive her, the loneliness, you and me. I forget a step, do not forget. A one-step to teach you what it really means indifference. In a step that live beyond my stills, and you will want better off dead than to live in my oblivion. I'm one step away from tear for all of my body, my lines and my thoughts. How I can be so smart? How I can stop the beating and become air and life? How I can do without you and feel more alive that neck? I owe everything to that indifference forced and stupid. I owe everything to that day when I said I did not mean anything to you, that day when I discovered you were a lost illusion, which did not exist, that everything I saw in you was fading slowly, lost in the vastness a null history, all your ironic and ridiculous farce. Now I understand how I love you so much. She loved the man at my side, but not the man you were.

My past is uncertain about to die, your hand, your kisses, your body ... a point between reality and magic. A sharp point that my desire to watch you evade fixed, close to you, to talk to slowly pronouncing my words in your mouth, desabotonarte shirt and make you tremble as before, as always, like never before. To hear you say my name, and between your bare skin, from deep eyes, silk caresses and kisses of honey. Forgetting weigh, press, ridiculed and crazy. Because the memories will live forever as long as consciousness. Because even if you forget and walk away, distance and borders are of no error if we run into at some point in this city that demands our essence. If by mistake I look in my eyes and I sneak into my soul, if by mistake I see you fixed my mouth and slips into the depths of your being. Because you do not need to touch me to feel close, because I do not need to be close to touch.

Because both played oblivion and indifference because the two bleed inside, torn, consuming us, dying slowly, to let fear win and enter the end point of what could have been and never will be. The end point of what I feel, the end point of our goodbye.

Oblivion is eternal loneliness, involuntary. Indifference erratic utopian solution. The reality cheating heartbreak.

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My Fingers

I still read you between the lines.

Even closing your eyes, pressing on the heart. even when decided to be frivolous and punctual in your few words I could read you discover that underneath and do not forget me not even try. I could even tell you how much I miss you, but it was not necessary to write. Pressing my hands and my eyes, closing my heart I tried to be timely and frivolous, but my fingers betrayed my effort, making it fail.

And like blocks of ice fell memories, desahiciéndose with each salty tear rolled without permission. Shattering my cheeks and opening holes in my soul. I think you keep hidden in the folds of my aorta and my arteries, attached to my shadow, my hands that I write like crazy. It does not hurt, only poisons. And do not kill or destroy illusions ridiculous, or build pyramids of jealousy and disappointment, only memories invade, invades every bit of my skin still misses you. There is only one long thread woven through my steps and your bed, where he belonged, complete yours, where dreams painted on your back and you wrote poems with the tips of my fingers. My fingers still remember the way to your lips, sometimes bleed, sometimes breathless and desperate to sleep. It is absurd that you remember So remember how to touch you and make you tremble. Sometimes I ask them to shut up, do not scream, try to forget, as I have asked so many times in my mind. Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish there were no passed between us, which was the nightmare of a bad night. That did not hurt so much and to stop breathing. Sometimes I only remember the last two kisses from your little sincerity and my patience broken, knew so much a goodbye, you never even noticed between the honey and mint. An involuntary dismissal, a forced goodbye leaving open wounds and scars. It seems that both my mind and my fingers are colluding against me, do not forget, do not even want to try and claim the strong decision I have let you go because you wanted to stay with them, but not me ... my fingers just knew you like yours, only that haunted my mind and fills it with you ... just wanted you to them without regrets or complaints, because your skin is blended with them becoming one, turning yours complete. I wish I could tear my fingers and thoughts one by one, to erase forever the memory of your body, your look and your silence, I wish I could forget myself, stop claiming that crazy locked your absence and torture forever remove that poison slow, which oppress inside, they burn and break the little quiet that I have left.

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covers my sky of stars. Sneak

on my balcony, untangles knotted my clothes, my scrambled thoughts, my mind painted white, and draw your shape there. Stay

live with me, to shelter my nights with your hands, stay to die with me, to entwine your soul with mine. Close

my mouth with a touch of your lips, close my world behind you for not escape the first challenge. Close my options to not run as before, scared to death. Even if it ran dead with fear, my soul would be indebted to deal with it.

covers my eyes with your hands, my neck to suck my blood boil. Devora my dreams and melts the steel wall that I built over all those who darkened my eyes, leaving me with no desire to die with a broken heart, my broken wings and gnawed my nails, my veins collapsed with fear and hopelessness.

Discover every corner of my moth-eaten skin, discover what lies beneath and sórbelo day after day, decipher riddles and discover that everything they taught me to create, has always been for you. Because it no longer fear, loneliness, either. A sorrow I have banished and hatred has been without shelter.

Discover

my shoulders, and charts a path to my navel, slowly unbuttons my blouse, and discover the chills running through my back and my spine frosty petrified. My bare legs, run with them, enough time that we lost, and returns with flowers, starry nights, ocean waves and millions of white sheets. I draw my sword and cut short the roots that bound me to the darkness and rage.

silk covers my body, that fits perfectly in yours. It covers my body of stars and calls each individual mole on my skin has always been the canvas of your hands. Count the days, the hours, detangles my mind, stir your silhouette with mine, my lips closed the swing of yours and imprisoned my past to oblivion, where they will be alone and gloomy, jealous and cowardly. Where no one will remember him, where he died full of fear, as I once was.

stars Give me your eyes and paint with my hands your future. Let me cover you with my dreams and lives forever in me.

Let me fill your sky with the stars of my body.

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Winter Rain Stars

Cold and crystal clear as my skin ... silk ... as heart pounding, ready to burst like a runaway horse ... My skin stuck to the bones that were just rebuilt, sealing each scar of my hardest-fought battle and when you colaste to the core of each of my bones, disarming and sprayer to me to ashes ...

And suddenly, my bones were strong, my heart was filled with warmth, silk of my skin deleted wounds, carrying my life in oblivion and hope ... and was reborn as a bird take flight again, so free and full of life, full of dreams will and courage. A bird confronts his destiny and fight until the end unceremoniously without blackmail or remorse. Weeping at times to clean the soul.

Last fall was cold, full of acid rain, dissolving the clogging, cleaning up was over, leaving only my essence. The rain enveloped my feet, wiping blood traces and ground ... clearing the ruins of me, strengthening me, recovered, rebuilt, in a shooting stars dance in a dance just for me.

the pulse returned to my veins, my eyes light to illuminate my path again, and resumed the reins of the runaway horse to return to being the rider of my dreams and my horizon.