Poema 3

Poema 3: Mala hierba

Yo soy mala hierba.
Esa que escuece cuando te toca la piel
y que quieren cortar a toda costa.
Yo soy esa hierba mala.

Nazco al otro lado del asfalto,
donde no se plantó semilla
y donde viene a morir el trigo.
Yo soy esa hierba mala.

Le sonrío a los mirlos y a los grajos
y nunca fui amiga de las margaritas.
Siempre quise ser un clavel,
pero yo solo fui hierba mala.

Mala hierba, hierba mala.
Con las hojas desgarbadas
sin flor hasta la primavera.
No pedí una jardinera y fui solo hierba.
 

Lucía C.G.

Spanish Thoughts

Spanish thoughts

Siempre estoy entre el decir y el callar,

Me arde el pecho y hay palabras atascadas,

Repleto de gritos ahogados,

Busco respuestas a preguntas que soy incapaz de formular.

 

Y los días pasan pero los pensamientos se quedan

Cruzando palabras con una mente que no para.

Aguanto la respiración por un momento,

Busco reunir la fuerza y justo al levantar la voz se me cae el alma.

 

Y todo pesa.

Pesan las palabras que no dije, los gritos que tragué y las ganas refrenadas.

Y aquí de nuevo, como siempre, queda todo atrapado,

con la mente llena y el pecho ardiendo. Con la garganta llena y los brazos vacíos.

 

Lucía C.G

Ghost girl

Ghost girl, ghost feelings

And they are all behind a door that won’t be opened.

And I’ll cry in the darkness

so my tears will dry and disappear just like me.

You can’t see me, I’ve never been here.

I am from nowhere.

 

I feel unreal.

You come and you go and I’m still here.

I cannot move, I cannot speak.

And you leave and I want you to stop,

But my words are just whispers in the night,

And as you leave, they disappear.

 

I’m a picture, I’m a wall.

I want to scream but I stand still.

And you laugh, and you look through me.

But I’m invisible, I am not here.

So you leave, you always leave.

 

I am nowhere, I am nothing.

I don’t exist, and yet I feel.

You cannot see me, you won’t hear me.

You just pass by and I,

I am and will be just a ghost girl.

 

 

L.C.G

 

This was inspired by: http://chicasperger.blogspot.com.es/2017/12/la-invisibilidad-o-como-ser-nadie.html

Grey Cloud

I feel I’m under a dark cloud,

And it makes everything look grey.

I am not scared of the shadows or the darkness,

but sometimes I just miss the sky.

 

I miss the birds, and I miss the sun.

I am not used to the joy,

but I hate the sadness that won’t leave.

I feel I’m under a big grey cloud.

 

Will this cloud even go away?

I miss the spring and I miss the bluebells.

And I dislike the loneliness that February brings.

It is just a sad month, it is just a sad week.

 

And in a moment everything can change,

It can rain and the sun can rise.

And I can breathe again, my chest feels free.

And I no longer see the cloud, I finally see the sky.

 

 

L.C

We are loved

I look at those girls on Instagram
and I fall in love with them,
with their confidence and their strength.
They’re pretty…
But not like society wants them to be.

I want to be like them,
I want their confidence and their strength
but I am still learning to feel happy in my own skin.
It is a process…
But I can feel I’m closer.

I stared at a girl in the bus.
She had purple hair and I loved it.
I bet she thought I hated her
because that’s what I think every time I see someone looking at me.
They must hate me as much as I hate myself.

But some days I dare to wear that dark lipstick
and those jeans that make me feel sexy and pretty.
I see myself loving me, and I don’t even need those approval looks.
And I want to contact all the girls I stare at and tell them
“we are enough, we are perfect, we are loved”.

 

L.C

October 10

I left because it hurts.

Maybe I’m a coward,

Maybe I just couldn’t handle this anymore,

But what’s wrong with that?

 

I left because of you,

Because I needed more,

Because I needed something else.

But I had no choice.

 

Maybe I did have a choice,

That’s the trick: I hold on until I’m broken.

That’s the trick: you take until I cry.

But I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to be broken.

 

I quit because of me,

I left because I was in pain.

Because I needed me more, because I thought of myself.

But why is it so hard for you to understand?

 

You will go on believing that you’re good

But you’re not.

You are just like you treat people,

You are unfair, you are a piece of shit.

 

I don’t look for revenge,

I am just portraying an objective reflection of yourself.

Loving me is a hard process,

But it begins by leaving you.

 

I have bruises and they have your name.

I am going to clean them until they are mine,

Until their name is my name.

I have bruises on my body, but at least I have no tears.

I thought

I thought everyone was like me,
that they were also scared,
that we shared fears.
That the world was frightnening for us all.

At first I thought that I wasn’t the only one
who shivered when I left my house,
that couldn’t breath when I was away.
I couldn’t read their faces, but I thought that.

Then I thought I was cool,
because they laught when I confessed,
when I said everything out loud,
they smiled and they thought all was a joke.

Then I became sad,
because they were mad at me,
‘Why can’t you be a better friend? Why can’t you tell me what I need?’
But I swear to god I didn’t know. And it broke me in pieces.

And then the questions changed…
‘Why can’t you speak louder? Why can’t you go to this place?
Why can’t you go out today? Why can’t you go to this job interview?
If you want it that bad, why aren’t you doing something to get it?’
And I wanted all of that, but I was paralyze.

And then everything became crystal clear to me:
I wasn’t scared like them I was scared of them.

Demons

You talk about demons

But you don’t know what’s like

To live fighting against yourself

To walk and yet not arrive.

 

I wish I was a saint

I wish my mind was heaven

But my truth is different than yours

And it’s hell what flows inside me.

 

I want to run away,

Keep the voices quiet.

They whispers in my ear,

And all I want is to be calm.

 

Without voices, without whispers,

Face my fears and accept

That I am who I am,

But I told you I was the devil.

 

You talk about demons,

But they are already my friends,

They come with me to bed,

They walk me through my dreams.