Entre sueños y despierta..

Surgen muchos momentos donde aun me pregunto como seria si estuvieras aquí. ?Podría hablarte de igual forma en que solía hacerlo antes? O tal vez seria una hija rebelde que no le dirige ni la mirada a sus padres? Hm..jejej.. Ese pensamiento me parece ridículo. Te amaba demasiado. Si..demasiado. Aun me despierto por las mañanas pensando en que te voy a ver, luego caigo en cuanta de que esa ilusión simplemente era formulada por mi estado de mente..Entre sueños y despierta..

Ahí es donde siempre me recuerdo de ti. Me parece injusto porque solo dura unos pocos segundos. Me parece una eternidad en el momento..pero no lo es. Es un momento demasiado corto para fingir que aun sigues aquí. Solo tengo ese momento para sentir que aun te tengo. Y luego despierto y te extraño, por que se que aunque te llame no abrirás la puerta de mi cuarto para asegurarte que estoy bien. Entonces..recuerdo.

Recuerdo todo y contemplo el pasado que nunca aprecié ni valorice mientras estabas aquí. Y ahora que es muy tarde no puedo detener mis pensamientos mientras el silencio es un recordatorio constante de que ya no estás.

Como seria si estuvieras? Me he acostumbrado a pensar en estas cosas. Hasta con las cosas mas tontas. Como.. “que dirías si supieras de mis días?”. Me pregunto si te contaría todo. Lo mas probable es que no. Soy como tú..casi no hablo. Contemplo muchas cosas en mi silencio como lo hacías tu..pero no hablo mucho. Pero de todos modos el pensar en escuchar tu voz una vez mas me hace preguntar estas cosas.. “Estarías orgulloso de la persona que soy?, Seria la misma? Quizás no seria igual al tenerte. Pero sigue siendo un deseo en mí quererte oír.

Entre sueños y despierta… Te digo que me hables. Que me digas todo lo que te ocurre, y si no, que me cuentes de tu día, que me digas tus chistes ridículas o comentarios con el detalle de sarcasmo feliz que tanto me hace reír. Y que mucho me reiré contigo.

Tu risa! Quiero escucharlo. Era una voz potente y profunda resonando por toda la casa como un trueno de alegría. Me recuerdo bien de eso. Me hacia sentir como si me llenera con un calor inmenso y que mi ser sintiera la fortaleza para hacer lo que fuera, lo difícil, lo imposible. No hay muchas cosas que pueden lograr eso. Con un gesto tan simple.. Algo tan natural.. Y que tenga la capacidad de influenciar tanta potencia en mi. Lo hacías con tanta facilidad que aun no entiendo en el día de hoy. Haría todo lo posible para hacerte reír nuevamente.

Entre sueños y despierta.. Le doy gracias a Dios por el momento que me dio para estar sentada junto a ti a la orilla de aquel lago inmenso, a simplemente hablar. No..Nunca ocurrió mientras estuve despierta y mientras dormía solo me consumían mis memorias. Al pasar el tiempo recordar como sonaba tu voz se me hace mas y mas difícil. Que horror!.. Que desesperación..el pensar que se me olvida el sonido de tu risa, el tono de tu voz, y la calma que esa voz me traía. NO! Me resisto! No lo hare!…

Entre sueños y despierta, gastamos el tiempo en simplemente estar, en existir…en vivir. Sin dirigirnos ni una palabra. Solo de sonríes. Con eso basta, porque con tan solo eso, me dices que me amas. Me dices que de igual forma que yo te extraño a ti, tu también me extrañas.
Pero nuestro tiempo es corto, y antes de que me pueda acercar para recibir tu abrazo de seguridad, me despierto y me encuentro sola nuevamente. Y lo único que puedo hacer es esperar hasta nuestro nuevo encuentro, de yo volver a estar entre sueños y despierta y recordar en los momentos que te tenia a mi lado. Luego pensare en los momentos que te necesito y nunca volverás a estar. Te extraño.

Ahora esperare pacientemente, hasta que llegue ese momento de estar, de encontrarte… entre sueños y despierta.

I am..

I can hear them yelling and screaming even now…They cheer, they boo, they demand more blood. And yet I am the one placed with the title of a savage… a barbarian… uncivilized. They think I don’t understand such words. They believe I cannot speak. Heh, funny what people will choose to believe when one simply keeps their silence.

It’s almost my turn… My nerves are on edge and my senses heightened to their fullest. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My body begins to perspire as the adrenaline within me already begins to build. My breath comes steady as I close my eyes. I can smell the bitter scent of blood, sand and dirt. My thoughts and stillness overcome any fear that would attempt to invade. The men around me are trembling. One of them is so terrified that he is urinating on himself. I pity him.. He reminds me of an abused mutt. He’ll be among the first to die.

I hope it is a quick death. Fear is a handicap. It freezes your bones and cramps up your muscles. It only rarely can be put to any real use. When placed within your enemy. I have no use for it though. I refuse to bring forth such a miserable and pathetic death.
The cheers roar loudly once again. Those who’ve fought before us put on a good show it would seem. The people are pleased. Such a disgusting display of what human nature can become. My stomach churns with the thought of how cruel each and everyone of them are. Curse them. They’ve created what we are. We exist because they choose to have us continue on like this. We have no choice.. Fight or die.. This is all we have.

The cuffs on my wrists are removed. I could kill the man watching of us if I wished to with a simple movement. But I don’t. It isn’t his fault this evil game exists. He wouldn’t last a minute if ever told to participate. I open my eyes now. I’ll need them. I need every inch of me to be aware. And yet I know in the end I lose myself in it all. And I will not return until its over. And yet if I fail to make it to the end.. I won’t be coming back at all. I do not fear death for it is a glorious thought to die in the midst of battle. And yet that is not the reason why I do not fear it. It simply is not something to fear. On the contrary its something to embrace. Oh, what an adventure and trial it would be! Its one I wish to take someday. Not today though. Nor the day after. So long as Cesar gives me a sword and shields my body with even the worst of his armor, I will fight. I will kill. And I will live. With only the memories of my past before this life to keep me company.

No.. My life was not always filled with death and the need to live. The life I have now should not even be called as such. This is not life.. It is survival.. And even then I think it’s a poor excuse to live. And yet I do. For I am filled with far too much pride to allow anyone to simply take my life. But the memories before this.. Then I truly lived. And perhaps one day when my arms are too weak and my freedom is granted I shall see but a piece of that life again. Though it is a fools hope to believe in such things. I shall surely die before that time comes. But I simply refuse to lay down my weapons and wait to be slaughtered. I believe it to be my pride that keeps me this way. I am no animal to be murdered before the public. If I am to be killed may it be in the glory of combat!

The gates are opening.. I can hear the sound of some sort of chained weapon being swung around and around at ready to take the life of any fool that would happen to run out blindly. My heel lightly taps each time the end of the weapon comes around. I hated these sort of men. They had no sense of honor. The smell of sweat was beginning to irritate me so it was a relief to feel the dry gust of fresh air as finally the gates swung open. I knew who I would kill first.. That disgraceful honor less excuse of a human waiting to take lives unfairly right at the entrance of the gate. It is time. We charge. Some yell and howl out their native battle cries, others simply scream in pure terror. Not more than a fiew seconds go by and already three have already been killed. Blood splatters upon my helm and soaks into my skin as I cut away at my enemy’s. I’ve already beheaded the honor less coward at the gate. A quick death.. Not one he deserved. But I have no time. I never remember how many they are, how many I’ve killed. What would the point be I wonder? They’ll only be more. Their faces once haunted me in my dreams. I could remember their screams and see the images of their blood being spilt at my hand. No longer though… With time the terror of murdering dies within you heart and only the will to live dominates.

It is ending, there aren‘t many of us left. I have killed my opponents and am weary. But we’re not quite done. The last of our enemy is very strong. A veteran at taking lives. The grim reaper of our kind. Not for long I think. Two men charge at him. “No you fools! Do not take him on directly! Damn!”. I run as fast as I can after them from another angle. I am too far away to reach them in time to help much less save them. But it was their choice… And I will use it. Both were struck down in two clean blows of the reapers twisted bloody blade. I wonder if he himself fears the death he brings with such ease.. I leap into the air as he spun around to face me. His eyes wide. I cannot see his face for it is masked but still through the slits I can see his surprise. Such acrobatics are not expected in a battle of life and death. He is aware now and shows no sign of expecting to lose. He does not believe me capable of claiming his life. I yell out each time my sword collides with his twisted and deformed blade. I have never seen such a weapon before. It was made for him certainly. Made to inflict the most pain possible. To humiliate its victims as it butchers their flesh. To die by this ones blade would give me no pride. I will not die. Are weapons continue to collide one blow after the other. My arm is tiring fast. He is much too strong to defeat in this manner. I need to think quickly. And so I retreat in hopes that the dolt will follow. And he does. I don’t run very far for his pace would risk slowing if he saw he could never truly catch up. And I need his speed. I need him to be clumsy. He’ll make a mistake. In fact he already has. Now! I suddenly come to a halt and spin around, dropping to my knees feeling as his blade missed my head by mere inches. I hold my arms out firmly as I thrust my blade into his belly. The idiot didn’t use armor that protects there. My blade slides in with ease for the only think stopping it was fat and lard. I growl as my arms suddenly feel the pressure of the dying reapers weight. I haven’t the strength to hold him up so I twist my sword free tearing open his oversized belly and rolled out of the way. Down fell the dying killer, and it was done.

The people suddenly burst out in cheers and begin to chant. It isn’t my name though.. I can hardly remember my name. It is merely a title and I care little for it. Still panting for air my eyes avert from my fallen victim to my surroundings. Four.. Only four lived this time. Two will die tonight from blood loss and I cannot see the other very well but it would seem if he fought again he would surely die due to inexperience and his current wounds. Now I close my eyes again. My brow furrowed as I escape once more into my thoughts. Blocking out the cheers and yells and drums of my surroundings. I calm my breath and allow my senses to numb.

I am in the fields again. The smell of metallic blood is replaced with that of dew and grass. The air is warm and the sun has begun to set. A gentle breeze brushes through my hair and kisses my skin. Slowly, very slowly I think of home. But before I can see my humble refuge upon that hill at the distance, I am shaken back into reality. They’re taking me back…

The cheers are now muffled by the underground walls. My eyes hold a cold stare. I know this because not even those who held me prisoner dare look into them. I am sitting now… Staring straight forward and contemplating what I’ve become. I shall never be who I once was again. But this is to be expected… I am strong.. I am ruthless.. I am a killer and survivor.. I am Gladiator.

Las manos..

Las manos …
Pueden ser la fuente de cariños eternos,
o herramienta de la protección propia y ajena.
Pueden hacer resonar una bella melodía
por medio de patrones de sonidos y ritmos al tocar un instrumento.
como pueden construir un monumento magnifico y elegante.
Pueden coger con delicadeza un pincel o pedazo de carbón
y pintar un mundo de pensamientos profundas y abstractas.
Pueden ser vía de contacto y comunicación,
como pueden ser una simple manera de expresión.
Pueden herir con un golpe,
como pueden curar con un pequeño roce.
Pueden ser señal de amor por medio de una caricia secreta e intima,
como pueden dar fortaleza al sostener y aguantar al de otro.
Las manos son extraordinarias, de muchos usos y funciones,
y que con un simple gesto o movimiento se podrán expresar de formas innumerables.

There are times when i feel as if im being stared at. Moments when you can't seem to control how you feel..Where everything just stops meaning anything to you..nothing matters. I feel as though people could see cuts and bruises upon my face..Moments like these it becomes difficult to lok people in the eye. Their stares feel as though someone were proding at a bruise on the corner of my eye. It stings..it hurts..it makes me wince in pain. And suddenly everything hurts. Im paralyzed by the pain i feel inside. I can't think, i can't breathe..And yet my face remains blank and i simply look foward in hopes it'll go away. But Their eyes can't see what they do to me. And then I wish they could see. I wish there were wounds upon my face and body so they Could have a reason to look! I'd say "LOOK AT ME!! Look at what i've been through!! It HURTS! I So Bloody HURts!"...If they could see this..if they knew..they would'nt stare..no one stares at someone who's been beaten down..no one prods at your wounds when they can see them...They would'nt make it worse.. They'd try to help. Ot at Least avoid making you feel as if you were some sort of a freak show.

They're beating me down and they don't even know it. Someone grabs me from behind and I can't avoid the blow thats coming. I hear and feel the loud "crack!" as bare knuckles smash against my face.. I bleed through my mouth and nose..its hard to breathe. My face becomes distorted and my ribs crack under the preasure of their kicks as i fall upon the muddy floor. It rains so hard no one could ever hear me even if i tried to cry out..so i don't..And then I am left behind..Disoriented and tired. Beaten and cold. I can't die though. No..never die..too stuborn..I have to get up. Push myself to me feet and stand. And with the new wounds given..continue to walk through the storm..

If you can sit without a care,

you have no reason to dispair.

For doing so would bring alfoat,

emotions that would trip your boat.

Fear not my friend,

its not the end.

Your feelings are something to send,

though not something that you can lend.

Embrace it truely to the end,

you'll find its something to defend.

Though troublesome it'll surely be,

this strong emotion you will see.

Its brings you down on to your knees,

or makes you jump in pure galee.

You'll hear one warning I must say.

Reason and logic don't come to play.

It'l the master of disaster,

makes your heart start pounding faster.

Consumes your soul and surely claim,

your mind will surely go insane.

Taking over your free will,

and drives you mad till you could kill.

Fear not my friend

it's not the end

you're feelings don't seem near.

You'd rather sit

avoid a fit

that truely be sincere.

But here me now i'll have you know,

its really not that bad.

Better to live, than shy away.

To hide is very sad.

For what better way, than to live for love,

if love is what brings life.

It runs too deep, flows through viens,

cuts deeper than a knife.

Some people say that love's for fools.

But if your way is wise,

I'd rather be insane all day,

seek out my own demise.

I won't be sane, I won't be safe

Oh! What better way to die!

To die for love, to love for life,

so to die is to simply live.

Perhaps in death you'll find more life,

than the nothingness you give.

But what sence is this

to speak of death and insanity so lightly!

To give up your life for someone else

instead of holding it too tightly.

Fear not my friend

its not the end

you'll find my words are true.

My words of love and madness are

a forign tounge to you.

So in the end, you'll never win,

to love is not a sin.

And in the end, you'll hide away,

You're heart made up of tin..

Parenthasis within my thoughts to quote (words for your loved ones)

"You know that place between asleep and awake?
That place where your dreams still feel like reality?
Thats where I'll always love you..
Thats where i'll always be waiting..."

..To Live

To die for love...
poetic, beautifull and tragic.
To live for love...
oh, now that is something to admire.
A brave ones path.

Dying is easy.
Once you die it ends, its over.
But to live...
That is the true struggle.
And for love non the less!

Filling each day with purpose.
As joyfull...as painfull as it may be.
It marks your life aswell as others.
For you are living.

The dead may rest.
So leave them be.
Live. Fight. Love.
Now That is something worth speaking of.

Rose's Lulliby

Why can't i seem to fall into place.

Into place with you.

It just does'nt seem that fair to me.

Is it fair for you?

Why is this happening to me?

Whats going on?

Did I do something wrong?

(Because)

-Chorus

'Cuz you're not here,

And its tearing me up inside.

Maybe im just going crazy,

'Cuz I still think you're here in my mind.

But you're so gone

And I'll scream to the heavens,

'Till i can find my peace and smile,

And say you're here.

I still keep you here in my heart.

Maybe its just a test preparing me for whats to come.

But i can't take more of this.

This pain is just too much.

You know i miss you.

I wish you were here.

But you're gone..

-Chorus

En memoria de ti

Manchan mis lagrimas como sangre en mi piel.

Grito en dolor y se escucha por doquier.

El dolor de mi alma simplemente crece.

Se alimenta de tu aucencia y muy fuerte me parece.

Marcada mi rostro esta', en memoria de ti.

Se que tu siempre estaras, muy dentro de mi.

The long journey

Along the great road of childhood,
dear little girl learns of pain.
At an early age, you would find it would
be found deep inside this young dame.

Pulled away from her beloved paradrise,
into a world of battle.
Away from the things that once charmed and enticed,
to things that mentally rattled.

Alas this young dame,
grew to be a young warrior.
Strong at mind,
but soft at intirior.

Though exposed her soft heart would never be.
Only those held close would ever see
that beneath her sword and sheild, which did'nt seem like much,
lay a heart of gold, warmth and loving touch.

So onward she went without a care,
obliviouse and unaware.
That her shield would be shatterd and sword be broken,
and her mind would be batter and words left unspoken.

Never aloud to say goodbye,
to the one true man that gave her pride.
They say she looked like him and had his attitude,
and when in a crowd found, she would stand in solitud.

But now it matters not,
for no one would have thought,
her father dearest was taken away.
By time and fate, nothing moreto say.

And now she wanders all about,
walking on without a single doubt,
that the pain in her heart would never be lifted.
Her world had changed and the times have shifted.

What she once had thought had now been alterd.
She would be strong and never falter.
For she must be direct and quick to the end.
Now other loved ones were left to defend.

With her bare hands she would have to hold off,
what life throws at her, to see if she'd gone soft.
Right at her face. to taint and destroy.
The world has this funny way of creating a new ploy.

But she can handle it; she knows she can win.
Confident as always, heck it is'nt a sin.
Blind sometime yes, but learn from this she will,
for life still has lessons, and life she has still.

Confessions of a Teenage Cutter

So here i am again, alone i stand

Staring straight foward, a sharp object at hand.

Lost in my old memories, without knowing what i've done

Till i finally glance down, and see my own blood.

I want to scream, but I drop down instead,

falling on to my knees, with noises in my head.

I start to pray, thinking i'll never win.

"Forgive me father, for i have sined".

So what person am I, to pray and sin at the same time...

Will I be forsaken? Or will you say "its just fine".

Oh God please forgive me, it was just this "one" time.

Pull me in your arms, and say "you're still mine".

Keep me as your child, please don't push me away.

Say you still love me, and tell me I can stay.

What a smile say yes, and say I should have known,

That one day I'll be ready, and I'll be able to go home