EROS AND THANATOS

Roses are red, blood is red, love is red. Happiness is clothed in thorns, it can be reached, embraced, with the crucifixion clause. The harder you push, the harder it sticks to you, and the blood gushes. Happiness is an elite created by those who self-destruct to give it to others. A cosmic equilibrium is destroyed in order to create, one loves in order to die, to the point of dying. Eros and Thanatos go hand in hand. There are still entities that prefer to harm themselves rather than those they love. They can be considered weak, but others do not know how much strength it takes not to open the Pandora’s box that is hidden behind a pair of eyes, they do not know how much awareness exudes from the skin. What awareness? The awareness of the power used to protect, which if released would cause a massacre with no survivors. An awareness that bleeds inside, behind a smile, without anyone noticing, or at least almost anyone. The blood gushes, and nobody pays any attention to it. And that’s right, for balance. For the world. There is a part of me that you don’t know, and it’s not my fragility, it’s that part that at some point reminds me of what I’ve been through, that makes me recognize your lies, that tells me when it’s time to move on , who does not stop saying that the first place will never be yours, because it is already occupied by me. You wouldn’t even understand it by trying on this part that you don’t see, so you will continue to call it insanity.

ALL THE SIGNS

You remind me of someone who
It never existed; the
Crazy doughs, maybe it's in
That Lilith bed that I am
Misunderstandings were born: ha,
I have always known the truth
But lying to me does me less
Ache. I wish I could prove
That time is just an arrow;
What I see inside yours
Mani - sincerely: a
Fist of presumption and limits,
The ones I prefer not to know.
You know how dangerous it is
Give the signs more labels
Convenient: Call things with the
Their name, and from there you start again.
But, tell me why not even
In the answers it is possible
Find that kick that me
Stuns; I see myself, I am beyond
Myself, I would like to recognize myself.
I created I created
A roof a mirror
Fidelity compliant, it's so opaque:
How long can I stay in this
Invisible shooting e
Survive my projections?
What I see in this balance on the world:
The garden let go.

Now I have only weight. I like,
But not always,
Be in control of things myself,
Know where to put your hands.
I touched you in that bed, and I have
Lied in not loving.
In the dark, with a little cold
Around: find myself in a
Bunch of mud, the gift that
Someone made me. I have it
Left to rot, but it always is
Dense. I'm in it.
What do I see inside the temptations:
A lie that is Eros
And engine of consciousness. I would like to
That the becoming was simple
Becoming, and not a return on
Guilt. Nobody touches me. Support
The last glass on the carpet, in the
My test what you could
To be. "You have more things to tell yourself."
Yes, I would like to tell them all, but it is
More humane to enjoy the confusion:
Sometimes the suggestions arise on the
Street. I wish I was different
And yet they are just that: one
Consciousness that sees only the hand
Tapered, a new light, too many
Register for one story only.
What do I see inside your story: one
Mine who can't leave.

https://youtu.be/KTzmzrruHwc