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“It feels like a punch. Tears fill my eyes, and I wonder how I could be upset over losing something I never had.”

— Jodi Picoult, Between the Lines

[embrujadastories]

En un monólogo,

Conversatorio,

Que tuve con migo,

Le pedí que no lo cortara.

Déjalo crecer,

Ya cuando estemos más viejos,

Lo echaremos de menos.

Que descuido el mío

Siempre olvidando

Olvido hasta lo que hablo con migo

y me lo corté.

Después de haberle

quitado el polvo a la herida

Después de haber

soplado las cenizas

Las letras se fueron

Como lluvia

Por las alcantarillas

En un arranque de valentía

Más bien impulso de idiotez

Las tijeras volaron

Cortando el aire

Me lo corté

Otra vez.

En alguna estación dejé

Las voces y los gritos,

Los sueños desteñidos

Me los corté

No encontré

En mi maleta

Espacio suficiente

Pesaba tanto

Que me lo corté

Otra vez

Pero el pelo crece,

yo siempre volveré

Aunque me vaya corriendo

Aunque pierda el control

Aunque me pediste no hacerlo

Y lo corté

de nuevo

Esta vez lo reconozco

Fue por puro antojo

alguien tenía que pagar

Ira consumida

Y si no he de morir

Cómo podría ascender

de mis propias cenizas.

Me lo corté de nuevo

Para ir soltando,

Para dejarlo ir

Al final del día,

es sólo cabello.

Volverá a crecer.

Y cómo el phoenix

Renacer.

[embrujadastories]

“Perhaps somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.”

— Vladimir Nabokov

[embrujadastories]

I would have loved to had you a little bit longer.

“This is not goodbye, my darling, this is a thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. but most of all, thank you for showing me that there will come a time when I can eventually let you go.”

— Nicholas Sparks

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— joy sullivan

[embrujadastories]

“I’ve always liked the time before dawn because there’s no one around to remind me who I am supposed to be, so it’s easier to remember who I am.”

— Brian Andreas

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And if someday  the uncertainty of this world  becomes too overwhelming,  I hope you remember  that some mysteries  aren’t meant to be solved,  they’re meant  to be lived.

[embrujadastories]

A midsummer sunset

Instagram | Cohost

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[embrujadastories]

“Someday, someone is going to look at you with a light in their eyes you’ve never seen, they’ll look at you like you’re everything they’ve been looking for their entire lives. Wait for it.”

— Unknown

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“I hope one day we can forgive each other for not being what we wanted each other to be”

— Kriti G.

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[embrujadastories]

“Just because you can feel another person’s emotions doesn’t make you responsible for them.”

— Sarah Brooke

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“The past is just a story we tell ourselves.”

— Spike Jonze

[embrujadastories]

Why does everything happen at the same time?

I just need a break from life. How can we stop this?

[embrujadastories]

A record that still has someone’s ear to listen it, will always be remembered.

[embrujadastories]

The last time I cried.

Was it a sign?

I’ve been looking for answer buried in the sky. The quietness surrounding us, whispering from the trees.

Was it a sign? Was it meant to be?

From all the place we could have been, destiny wanted us to meet.

I saw you, you saw me.

Wondering by the city lights, walking with no direction, would it be possible for me not to be a ghost, could I get a louder sound from my throat.

Was it a sign? Was it fate?

The sun was falling asleep, the trees started whispering again and a bombing heart wanted to cried.

Between dreams and under the dying sky, I sang a sad song and there you are, from all the people and all the places that exist, from all galaxies and different seas. You are breathing the same air as me.