last summer fight

when you get drown

I see you getting drown

then when I call you

just take my hand

do not resist

take my hand

I pull you out

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Sunmer drama

Love is a soft thing

but it has sharp edges

It is a light feeling

but it comes massive

Love is so rare

so unique

so special

but also common

and also mainstream

Love is all the good things we always had

and yet something we never had.

It is indeed, everything.

Social Media

as a description of ourselves

we write about our positions in life

about how we make a living

what we are good at

our status,

-the founder

-the producer

-the freelancer

-the professional photographer

-the activist

-the feminist

-the blogger

-the actor

-the dancer

-the brutally honest

-the simply happy person

-the

where are the rest then?

if we are all here and all these,

where is the ignorant?

where are all the thieves? the liars?

where are all the sad people gone?

where is the one who does nothing?

the one who is just there, watching?

the one who hates her mom and just had a huge fight with whole family?

all of us with no job, no love, no interest?

where are all those people throwing tampons in the ocean?

the war lovers?

the ones with no friends and no birthday parties, not so grateful for having all in their life bla bla?

where is the rest of us hiding?

without a description?

party

it is the pain within

that brings you loneliness

among even thousands of people

even the dearest of people

what throws you far from the crowd

is the thickness of the lie

it is the depth of what hurts

what you can see

but you don’t want to see

what you know

but you don’t want to know

it is that scream

that rage

within

that makes you sound so soft,

look so calm,

so fluid.

it is the scare

it is the wideness

of that scare

it is perhaps

that much transparency

that makes you invisible

that much clarity that makes you fragile.

what throws you far from the crowd

is the thickness of the lie

it is the humility

the humble pain

within

that brings you loneliness

among even thousands of people

even the dearest of the dearest of people.

sick leave

I cant grow plants

in a burnt heart

at least till the time

the ashes are still there

not forgotten

I need time

I cant just wake up on any day

and say

like

ok, today I smile.

to be fairly real

I need a bit of time

to swallow things

days with flue

infection

confusion

are also days

and they also end up with a night.

then, even if we dont move

there is no pause in our flow

so there comes a breeze

or maybe a shift in stars

and direction of light

and blows the ashes

fills the holes

I get up

I dance again,

and deal with the mass of ego

we spit on the earth

and accept that we are all one, the same.

and I deal with it.

atlántic beside me

He is blue

light blue

transparent

so clear

he comes slow

goes slow

weightless

humble

charming brown eyes

most of the time

in a blue shirt.

he is the azul clarito

sometimes from the mediterranean

sometimes from the atlantic

something around our heads

you are bitter

and I know all you need is love

but your ego hits me in the face

in the chest

it makes me tired

it makes me want to go to sleep.

I am not sorry because this is not about any of you

but all of you

about all of us.