Stubborn tears, they never come —

There are nights

When they deny themselves;


Supposed to be stormy


And outside

The night falls dry

And warm,

Not knowing that we have a desert





Not a “poem” again, I guess. Just a random, loneliness fueled thought I transformed into one. Translated from one my posts in Portuguese (2nd blog).

Sickly Romantic (But Only Before Bed)

I thought I’d never remember

The shade of blue in her eyes,

But her face came to me smiling

In the memories I thought

I had left behind.

Tomorrow morning

I won’t remember you anymore,

But the morning sky

Will leave me sad

And wondering what the hell

I have been missing




I’m always out of ideas for titles. I usually solve the problem by picking a line from the poem, but sometimes I’ll just read it again and think “okay, what will I think about myself/that time when I read this again next month/year? …Ah, I’ll probably think THIS. Okay, that’s a smart title. Or maybe not. Anyway…”

I may change it later. We will see. Off to bed now!

Far Away

Two loud children throw rocks at the birds.

Cars come and go,

But I stay here looking at the world.

I hear laughter; I hear the sound

Of a tiny life falling from the sky to the ground


The innocent can be brutal sometimes


Frozen eyes can’t travel. I can’t destroy this distance,

But my heart dreams of you in a rainy country




Almost a year has passed.

Continue reading


Your smile was so beautiful I didn’t even care to look at

All the pretty girls in mini skirts


Too bad, we’ve grown

Apart. Too bad, but truth is that

I don’t miss you at all.

Still, your smile was so sincere

I wouldn’t mind seeing it tomorrow

Under the lights of a crowded party,

Where, full of anxiety,

I’d hold your hand and ask you

To immediately drive me back home




This is probably not a poem. Not sure what it is. Who cares?



How Many Hours Left

Again, he’s threatened to kill me;

With his hands around my neck,

I disappear —


In a foreign land,


Inside the house, but lost

In a million of blurry thoughts

Where chance meets peace,

And fate meets his anger


I wonder

If I still have time to choose

The way I’ll die


How many hours left

Do I have? 

How many tears

Am I allowed to cry

During the last day?




I haven’t been able to think, write or do anything productive for a few days now. I can’t even read anymore. This can’t be the way I’m gonna “go”.

(Un)important tears(?) — Babies and Kittens

Yes, this is a random post about my feelings and why I can’t focus enough to write anything today that isn’t worth a slit of wrists.

So… A couple months ago I met a stray kitten. She was living on campus, surprisingly. She was the sweetest, oh my god… Always, always. Apparently, she was adopted after a kind soul offered herself to take her. But today I started to think about her and I CAN’T STOP CRYING. I’ve been crying for maybe more than 30 min. Just to make things worse, earlier this morning I briefly visited the orphanage where I met baby M a while ago. I remember posting about both.

This is definitely one of the most depressing days ever this year. I hope both are okay, happy, well fed and that both live amazing lives. But, dear god… I feel like I have failed both and that both should be with me. Maybe that’s not true, but it’s the strongest thing I feel right now.



Late Realization

I loved you, but hated your poetry.

Two years ago, I’d say “he’s so avant garde!

Let him speak from his heart,

You just can’t get it” — now I see

I never really liked it, but could never confess



Tuesday Morning Ramblings

Enough of writing about my own misery;

I need a new muse:

A Greek goddess or another blue eyed Brit,

My poetry wants someone to adore


Let’s see if I last two weeks

Without writing about empty bedrooms and

Slow mornings;

High on caffeine and nostalgia



(Not So Poetic)

I suppose you’re okay. That’s good.

So am I. Better than yesterday, that’s for sure. 

I’m now a heavy tea drinker

Who avoids bookshops

Because I’m broke 

(But that’s not news, right?).

People came over today, I chatted

And had fun

(But in the end,

Here I am,

Feeling lonely)


Honestly, I’ve stopped caring

About your existence.

Your name

Is just another name now

(That brings bitterness and sadness

During long sleepless nights — and that’s all. 

You don’t show up in my head

Every single day anymore)


I just found out

That you’re not dead. 

I assume you’re good

And that’s nice