Entre flutuar e se afogar

Sinto que eu devia parar de sentir;
parar de pensar, parar minha mente um instante
e viver,
viver esse instante.
Ser amante de alguém,
não esperar nada
além de acordar,
manhã por manhã.

Sinto que eu devia parar de escrever,
mesmo que eu já não saiba mais escolher as palavras,
que meu talento esteja perdido em minhas mágoas.
Meu amor
sem palavras,
sem amor,
sem nada.

Sinto que cada dia que acordo remoendo,
perco um pouco mais pras dores que sinto.
Físicas e mentais,
concretas e perceptuais.
Não sou eu aqui,
nem eu ali.
Não sei
onde estou.

Sinto que não posso mais perder tempo,
muito menos saúde de espírito,
nem mais um amigo.
Ou me perder no caminho,
tentar encontrar um destino?
Apenas seguir,
sem chorar,
nem sorrir.

Sinto, meu talento está perdido em algum lugar,
que minha essência vai acabar por brilhar.
Serei mais que um vulto,
uma sombra
do que eu era,
do que eu sou;
diminuta,
quase muda.

Desmotivo e ação

E o de

sa

nimo

Palavra simples, de significado preguiçoso.

E a preguiça me olha de novo

com esse olhar de quem não quer.

E eu não quero.

Já desbravei mares, já escalei montanhas;

hoje sou apenas uma entranha,

um suspiro do que passou.

Que passou e levou,

passou e levou.

Levou,

mas não vou.

Fico no aconchego de meu lar

esperando a decência chegar

pra levantar de minha cama.

Fico pra cá e pra cá,

sem me movimentar

esperando algo que me salve.

Salve.

Me procure e me salve.

Me veja e grite,

dê-me vergonha na cara.

Dê-me a palavra certa,

a frase correta pra dizer.

Dê-me o sorriso sincero

na esfera trincada de meu ser.

Hei de ser esse ser,

libertar toda a minha força

e mudar o meu destino.

Amanhã de manhã.

Depois de amanhã à tarde.

Antes tarde,

do que nunca...

Nothing at all

Between my feelings, and the distance between us

There is this certain, the bright side of you and me still exist

And did not fade even slightly

My smile while seeing you on a electronic block of communication

It is real, it is a smile of someone hoping to feel warm again.

Hoping to see you.

While writing is becoming difficult

While staying alone all the time makes me feel the emptiness on my life

You, my small little girl, makes me want to learn.

Learn how to survive feeling good about myself.

Learn how to live without you, and then be stronger with your heart on my side.

Then, when I feel sleepy, and want you in my bed with me.

I can feel your heart, and live alone would not sound so hard anymore.

I will tell the truth.

You are 90% of the reason of my life right now.

And the lonelier that I get, the bigger your part on my life become.

I want us to become one.

I want me to stay happy

To get closer to the perfection that I could be.

But while I wrote this, all I could think was:

"How hard writing could be for an ex writer?".

And felt sad for losing the ability to speak with my fingers.

To put words on my mind.

I know how I feel, I know what I want, I know what you want.

I just do not know how to get on the point

That I do not need anything at all

To make a smile, to love the man I am.

I just hope that you still love that

The confusing life that you will get with me.

I just hope that I can find myself

Before you get sick of me trying.

Amor Incompleto

Eu ouço os segundos passando,
mas sei que não é o tempo de verdade,
porque já faz uma eternidade,
que por você estou esperando.

Eu vejo o desabrochar das flores,
mas sei que não é a primavera,
porque meu coração não acelera,
não mais quer saber de outros amores.

Eu sinto a chuva cair escorrer no meu rosto,
mas sei que esta chuva não cai do céu,
porque os versos que escrevo neste papel,
representam apenas um sentimento suposto.

Eu digo que pro amor não tenho coragem,
mas sei que nem a mim eu engano,
porque eu quero dizer que te amo,
assim que nossos corações se encontrarem.

Sambe, meu amor

E é dela
esse coração que fala,
esse coração que grita.
Passa dia, a alegria
só me deixa dizer
que é dela
todos esses sonhos,
composições incompletas,
melodias das mais belas
e o cheiro dessas flores.
Mas é dela
também as incertezas,
a solidão que vem da natureza
e o rosto triste de noite, a chorar.
Eu sou dela.
Mostro me encolhendo em um canto,
pensando tanto, enquanto canto
a musica que me faz gritar.
Escudo dela,
protejo contra todos os tremores,
jogo-me a frente de tiros certeiros,
uso meus punhos se eu precisar.
Somente ela,
incorpora mãe, namorada e pequena,
encosta seu rosto em meu peito
e dorme a me esquentar.
Preciso dela,
não sou somente um cara torto,
não tenho mais aquele sorriso morto,
aprendi na poesia a sambar
e a cantar,
Lá iá la iá.

Guest

I expect you to be my guest
on this time calling Everest,
this trial of my interest,
the kill for those who call for the death.
But my arms are folded on your arms,
My head don't turn me out of your eyes
and I don't hope for losing you.
Your time it's just finishing soon
and I am not the creepy son
who will expect you to die.
I want you to be my guest
on my life that is running so fast.
You didn't see that much from me,
but the last time you went to see
I was lying with no look to show.
You just told me "grow up".
"You don't wanna lose your shine,
don't wanna stay like me falling into pieces
as some undisclosed issue,
not wanting to find any clue
and giving some shit advice for your son
that you barely know from the glow."
You dying now, my non-father at all.
I don't have any last wish for you,
don't need anything that is new.
I just expect you to live
and see what I turned for,
not thanks to you,
but for that advice on my dark room
that someone gave on the bar
and you just spelled to me
like a parrot.

And I repeat now as you die:
Be the guest on my life,
be the guest on disguise,
even with your sold soul,
even without your body.
I need my father now
to see that I am not turning into him.

The last breath came on the hospital room.
I am not crying, I am not crying.
Nothing come from my eyes.
But I take the last shot of tequila for your hopeless heart.
Goodbye, guest.

Mouth Shout

What do you expect from your living?
Really, tell me, because everybody needs something to stand by...
And you're falling apart, you don't know what to do with yourself.
That's ok, that's magnificent if you have nothing.
But when you have everything, that doesn't make any sense.
When you search for something that you don't know what it is.
It's not about the poetry of your words anymore.
It's about you, and your will to be happy.

He is not mad with anyone, it's just searching for the world he had before.
He is not dying, he is not crying, he is not smiling too.
He have nothing. Surely have.
But when your thoughts take all your mind, you overthink.
You overdrink, you oversuffer, you overthink again.
But he is not happy, not sad, not anything.
It's just waking up every morning
Trying to forget these feelings.

They are all about smile.
They are the future of humankind, future of the world
Go together, run together, stay together.
But certainly don't do anything worthwhile.
They spend all day showing themselves how amazing they are.
But they aren't that amazing.
It's all about the show. It's all about fake smiles on beautiful landscapes.
It's all about showing it's them together, but they are not one same unit.
They have mind.

I am something between the lines.
Something that thinks too much and live too little.
Someone that expect more from everyone.
Including myself. Including you.
And when I am supposed to be happy.
I spend all my time thinking on things of life.
But life is not that amazing. Life sucks.
Everyone just show them off to the world.
Without trying to learn anything from the experiences.
Without telling anybody their experiences.

A living hell world, with living tell stories.
Lets make crazy those who show out every feeling.
Lets make normal those who scream alone on their room.
The together unit its falling apart.
And we got nowhere else to run.
From ourselves.

Don't make the static no-feeling poetry rule our society.
We have stories to tell and people to see.
It's not just you. It's not just me.