.

When I'm lost in my head, 

When there's that fog in my mind, 

I need to remember who I am.

So I hold my mother and cry,

Hoping some part of her still knows 

How to ease my pain.

If she kiss me, would it heal where it hurts,

just like it did when I was a kid and scraped my knee

or bumped my arms somewhere so hard,

it bruised me.

Hope it does. 

Hope she still can kiss the hurt away.

So I cuddle her, I cry in her lap,

I hope she can cure my head.

Sometimes she doesn't even notice my tears,

Sometimes she holds me untill I can breathe again. 

She reminds me to breathe. 

I really wish she can still kiss the hurt away. 

.

There's a well.

I'm trapped inside it.

fallen from somewhere I don't remember. 

Cold hands shoved me down. 

Cold hands pulled me in. 

My fingers dug into the walls,

My mouth screamed and pleaded,

My tears mixed with the black water.

It drowned me.

It swallowed me whole. 

I was gone. 

And now I am lost. 

.

Do I exist? 

Or am I just someone else's memory, 

Trapped in a moment, 

A fragment of loneliness, 

A beam of melancholy 

If I am in someone else's head, 

Tell them to remember something 

Pretty about me. 

To remember me when I am happy

Just so I can know that there's more of me 

Than this crumpled memory of a sad girl. 

.

Mommy, I wish I had wings.

Wish I could fly away from my pain,
from myself,
from the ghost that looks back at me
when I look in the mirror.

I wish I could soar so high
that no blue days would exist.
Only blue skies,
reminding me that I still could find
some happiness
someday,
somewhere.

I wish I had wings, mommy…
Why can’t I be a bird? 

.

eu fico pedindo a qualquer deus que ouça 

a qualquer energia misteriosa que rege o universo

a qualquer coisa, qualquer um, 

eu fico implorando para que você 

me ame direito,

me ame pra valer, do jeito alto que eu 

quero ser amada. 

eu fico procurando relíquias, resquícios, 

restos de você

em todos os lugares que eu vou, 

em todas as pessoas que passam ao meu redor. 

sinto que fiquei aqui, sozinha, só uma sombra 

de quem eu era antes de você me encontrar. 

eu quero me amar direito

.

I like to draw perfect straight lines.

Little boxes, neat little strokes of the pen —

The perfect storage space for my thoughts.

No matter how scattered, sparse, or senseless they seem,

They'll always fit inside the lines of the boxes I've drawn.

And, oh, I do draw them — everywhere —

Whenever my mind races faster than I can keep up.

One, two, ten... as many as necessary to keep my thoughts organized,

Contained, tamed,

Tucked away in quiet corners of paper,

So they won’t spill into the rest of me.

When life feels like it's just too much,

I just grab some paper and a pen.

And even if I can’t find the words perform how I’m feeling,

I can always draw a perfect straight line —

And then another, and a few more.

The box is always there,

Wherever I can draw it.

.

nós nos amamos com a violência do primeiro amor

éramos vorazes, incansáveis, desafiadores. famintos... 

como se o mundo fosse se dissolver entre nossos lábios caso não nos beijássemos o suficiente, 

como se o ar fosse nos faltar caso não estivéssemos próximos o bastante, por tempo o bastante 

a distância doía fisicamente, a saudade falava mais alto que qualquer barreira 

nós nos amamos com tudo o que tínhamos, 

entregues viciosamente, sem medos, despencamos juntos num precipício que nos levou...

a lugar algum. 

pois o nosso amor consumiu todo o resto, 

engolfando em chamas poderosas a verdade de quem éramos - de quem somos

cobrindo nossos olhos e ouvidos com mãos ansiosas, desesperadas para que continuássemos juntos 

nosso amor virou cinzas

e o meu coração se desmanchou em pó