If I had to open my heart, I would tell all the secrets therein, those that I confess myself, and those that I try to deny myself… I would speak about my hope, the struggles, and toils for a happiness that I do not even know if it exists, but I insist on wanting to get from my refusal to accept being arrested, unless this prison is my own choice… I would say, probably, that this weakness is only apparent or even the strongest hours my heart asks for shelter and understanding… I know there are things I never learned … Continue reading If I had …

Pour yourself on the paper… Drag a pen across paper, cutting into the pages and staining the corners with tear marks. Breathe hot, alcohol-scented, breaths into the pages as you internalize your screams. Handle it as though it were poison. Slide it between the leaves of an old dusty book when you wake up, don’t read it again. Feel it in the swell of your chest on good days when the Sun shines and you can hear children laughing. Recognize it in the sounds of the birds singing when you wake early in the mornings and see it curled in … Continue reading Pour yourself on the paper…