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Moadlc

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

7 poems·Since August 2018
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What is Left?

August 15, 2018

I see you, old f(r)iend

It was about time I came back again

I am crawling on my knees

Begging and pleading for you to love me

 

Please, I need you

My sweetest     amor

The nature of my candor

My sharpened, lyrical sword  

 

Sin ti,               I cannot go on

I have turned your       melodias

Into a bastard's song

Trying to fill the void              que me decias

 

You warned me, old f(r)iend

You warmed me,          cabron

I wish I had listened

Instead of saying          'Alo'    on the phone

 

Te        fucking            extraño

My                   amada mia

Tratando                      so hard             de formar nuevas sinfonias                    

Pero callendo siempre    in the   trampas            of my  lenguajes

 

Mi       words   no       make    sentido

Now            what I have      perdido:

Coherence on my        papel

Sentido en         my soul

 

Spanglish,        cabrona

Bastard of my              mundo

Just when I think I have left you,

Me miras,         saying:             Te lo viviste,    bitch.

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