Tus Labios Me Han Mentido Tanto Que En Cada Engaño Eran Distintos

Your Lips Have Lied to Me So Much That in Every Deception They Were Different

I adore you as long as delirium allows me
And with it, I feel I've never admired so much
Cruelly ignoring your affection
As if only I mattered
When I talk to myself

I must be a bad lover
Since I never recognize your changing face
And never know if it will be the last time
Just as I ignore the new beginning
I don't know if you'll leave me or if I'll leave you
This doubt is not solved by omniscience

Excuse me, if my fickleness is to blame
And not the coincidence for this mistreatment
But if my forgiveness is wrong
I will hate this unjust affection
Longing for your past

Your lips have lied to me so much
That in every deception they were different
And like a believer addicted to your fallacy
I pray without conscience or honor
For the return of your fragrance

Lie to me
Like the child I would like to return to
If the lie is pleasurable
There is illusion and no malice
Seduce me again
Because even though you are me
I cannot

Turn this plea into an omen
Remove the otetiso
And if death were a dream
I would want to be dead
To be with you always
Without noticing duality

Your poetry is so explicit
That I assume rhyme is unnecessary in your portrait
And I condemn myself to prose
Like a painter to brushstrokes and scribbles

I want to hug you
But in this scenario
My body has no arms
Stubbornly remaining with me always in a blurry plane

If I betray you or betray myself like a madman
Delight for others' cruelty if I did
They might feel laughter or pity
A minority that feels
Something more than passing indifference

Luckily, I took precautions
Showing more of myself than is dignified
And wrapped in the stereo of that ethereal body
I consider myself less unfortunate the more deceitful I am

How right was that wise man who said
That happiness comes from within
In the times I considered him naive
Now that I understand the Buddhist
At least in his insights
I forgive the lies that stemmed from his confusion

Writing a poem in times without readers
Double madness of mine
If I can overcome its premise

Sometimes you bite me
And become a nightmare
Challenging my desire to see you
And my concept of life

You know that words, a treasure I disdain
Like any shiny object
Don't consider me a goldsmith if I articulate
That you vanish in a blink

Because you do
And we know I don't say it as an ornament
As I only use them when necessary

I only write truths
And they find their beauty
Although they possess little before I mention them
Excluding the view of cynical or psychopathic eyes

That's why I condemn silence
Because it hides the beauty
But not the bad
Because the latter is suffered
And the former is taught
And if not done
What shines
Is reduced to cruelty

Expression is erroneously considered freedom
And those of us who see know
That regardless of the brilliance with which its bars gleam
A prison is a prison

Sometimes a perverse poet
Who strays from verse
To approach truths
My pulse doesn't tremble if the impulse of a fair reasoning
Requires less architect
And something more austere

And before your memory fades
Clutching onto what remains of it
I sketch with final strokes
Your volatile figure

And I think life is as unfair
As I've been describing it for five years
I refer
I don't retract

I've thought of you too much
As after each appearance
Tormenting ghost
Because this mind so succubus
That detaches from itself to harass
The times I don't recognize myself
Are always the ones I know you
Wanting to end with you, I ended up alone
And I ended
Alone
Two expressions of different meanings
But the same tragic outcome

Closing this confession, I declare
That I felt comfortable in your distant warmth
You're gone
And all that's left of you is me

You've taken away the desire to live that you gave me
And I don't know if I want you to come back
Because I don't know if I prefer to have that desire again
Or to lose it again