I AM MY NIGHTMARE MIRROR

   Once upon a time there was this girl, bored at home. All she wanted to do is go outside and play at the new park that opened up, but the heavy rain would not let up.    “What am I supposed to do now that you hate me?” She asked to the sky. “Can’t you even give me a few minutes of peace to try my new shoes in the muddy puddles?”    And a loud thunder was heard, before the rain began to fall as strong as rain can fall, and the winds blew as strong as wind can blow. The  raindrops changed directions from side to side until they found a way into the covered balcony where the girl was.    “Really, dude?” She questioned the sky once more. “You won’t even let me in my own balcony?”      Grumpy as she was only rarely, the girl decided to look for something fun to do inside the apartment, but she could only find piles and piles of boring paper. Books, manuscripts, newspapers and magazines occupied the entirety of the floor and tables.    “What good is paper when you’re bored?” She asked hers

    “Funny how psychotropics rule over good art, isn’t it?”    “You mean that Soundcloud crap?”    “I’m talking in general. Drugs are a good shortcut to prestige.”    “’All my dreams got dimmer when I stopped smoking pot.’”    “’Une  immensité de bonheur et de vertu s’ouvre devant toi.’”    “’It’s hell on Earth and the city is on fire. Inhale, inhale, there’s heaven.’”    “Hello, sir. May I interest you in some Devil’s cunt?”   ***    Poor girl wearing a puffy dress    Skipping around waving a wand and    Dreaming of being a princess while    Her mother fights a headache massaging her temples at the bus stop   ***    The knife fell close to the juggler’s feet.    What would happen if it were to hit bullseye?   ***    Macho man, symmetrical beard, 7ft tall    Says I’m cute, asks if he can buy me a drink    Bourbon at 09:00AM    Sex in the bathroom stall   ***    Bland beige on my naked walls    Colorful little Christmas lights sparkle all around the building across the street    Dispari

    Your heart coming for me    Like it’s mine    While my deception reigns inside you    Like it’s yours      You tell me you love me    You tell me I’m a goddess, your goddess    You tell me you adore me    And I question you, we’re on the rooftop    Would you answer the door naked if I asked you to?    That guy walking alone down there, would you shoot him if I handed you a gun?    Would you jump off this building right now if it was my wish?    The gleam in your eyes scare me    You’re a dog waiting for the stick to be thrown    Out of the building and into the darkness ruled by moonlight    Into the street where you’ll remain as a symbol of your love for me      —first as puddle, then, as memory—    And then we settle, laying on cold concrete    I see your hand hesitating, you think twice before trying to reach for mine    And when you finally do, I don’t respond to the touch    I don’t want to hold your hand and you know that very well but try anyway hoping a miracle will take pl

   “You know what we should do? We should buy some cute clothes for you.”    “Hmm... thanks, but no thanks?”    “Don’t be a lame-O, come on. Let’s buy spinny skirts and stuff, I know you like those skirts.”    “I also like Elizabethan fraises, are we buying that too?”    “Oh... from that thing you wrote, right? ‘something something like something to garnish the fraise..’, I like that one.”    “Like it so much you didn’t bother to remember the only real rhyme I’ve ever came up with.”    “Stop taking me places, dude. Let’s just go clothes shopping and stuff. Just don’t think about it.”    “I think I’m fine not wearing a skirt, thank you very much.”    “Oh, sure, Ms. Pants-and-long-sleeves-are-the-only-thing-inside-my-closet. Your boss isn’t wrong, you really look like a dyke.”    “Don’t say dyke, that’s not cool.”    “Oh, yeah, because you’re totally offended by it, Ms. Lesbos.”    “Ms. Lesbos? Is that a reference?”    “Who do you think I am?”    “Someone that knows me enough to know I w

  [Tradução na segunda metade do post]    “You know, when I was little grandpa used to say that when I grew up I would change the world in it’s entirety, like, I would change people’s notions of right and wrong and make the world a better place, and receive a Nobel prize for that. He told me that, when I grew up I’d be a great person, and my name would be in the history books and, if he was still alive then, he would be the author of those books... that’s how proud he was of me, how much he had planned for me.    “Grandpa would sometimes call me to his office and offer a sit, but not say anything, just look at me with tears of joy in his eyes, and he would say, ‘You remind me so much of myself, dear’, and tears would finally roll down his healthy rosy cheeks. He looked so healthy, you know? Nobody could ever imagine he would die like that...    “and when grandma locked me in my room to swallow a pile of math books because my teacher said I was ‘too average’, grandpa snuck in late at ni

    Hazel eyes like grossular garnets to garnish the fraise.    Black jacket over flowery summer dress,    Walking her dog under the warm summer haze.      We exchange glances and get lost in each other’s eyes for a moment or two,    Touch shoulders, go our separate ways.    I’ll eventually forget that face    But her memory will forever be present in the flower of same beauty I picked two blocks away. ***    Not a model for a statue,    A goddess, abstract object,    Metaphysical world, a muse.      god could not create beauty so concrete,    Atoms could not form something so perfect,    A once in a lifetime sight,    Reality eclipse, breaks the plan,    Cuts the mantle in disruption.      The simple touch of our shoulders,    Smell of overwhelming desire inside my nose,    Sitting at the empty bus stop trying to breath again    But my body can’t afford to work outside that brief moment, now passed, of pure and genuine love at first glance. ***    Ollie in mind    Face on the ground  

   “SURPRISE!” was chanted, but a quick murmur of disappointment echoed right after they saw me.    “You fucking cunt, why are you so late?” Jonas asked.    “Late for what? What party is this?” I question, to which the boss replies: “Did you not read any of my e-mails, ‘nastasia? You really are a cunt...”    “Sure, but what is this party for?”    “It’s the surprise party YOU helped organize weeks ago...” ***    Bus full of high schoolers standing    Free sit next to the old man    He’s so happy for having someone to talk to    Kids can be disgusting, man.   ***    3AM at the local Walmart    Resounding memory of tipsy, clean milky white tits    The sober version is not the same, it has too many scars   ***    Air conditioning riddled with masculinity    Dominating my body like only God can do.    Court or public television?   ***    Cereal bars, deodorant, books,    Ultra smooth 3$ black pencils, papers from last year;    A small canvas that was on sale, a can of sardines,    Seafood C

Cool jean jacket Wavy hair mademoiselle Showing off pinky ring *** All colors of fabric On the manufactured patched long pants, Long, as long as could be for someone so moyen   *** Purple hair, bull ring, Dominatrix in the elevator. I can see the hot leather peeking from under that coat.   Lips so black, eyes so big Such a character Being lifted to paradise.   *** Curls upon curls, like a mane On the lioness eating my soul with her beautiful green eyes Three tables away.   *** “Wanna taste my chocolate?” “Salted caramel I bet.” “What about some pepper flakes?”   *** Tinder date looking gorgeous. Too bad this sick fuck Brought her dog.   *** A sly kiss on the fly “I know you were pinching my butt back there” Those inch-long nails don’t lie.   “So what? Wanna fuck?” Where does my reason go When a purple punk wants to pluck? *** Those big glasses That thick book Stereotypical nerd’s number on my sketchbook.   *** Don’t you think You’re too young for me, Little angel?   *** Deep voice behi

    I kiss her    She kisses me back    I lick her    She licks me back    We smile, lips touching    Black, red an purple on milky white skin.      “Wanna see the new trick I discovered?” She asks.    “Give me your worst”, I answer.    Sanding string is wrapped around the rope that tightly ties my wrists.    “Wanna see what happens when you struggle enough?”    “I’ll figure out myself.”    “Want some incentive? I got whips.”    “Maybe some crack cocaine?”      Bloody wrists    Chinese finger trap but the entrapment doesn’t come from the paper around your fingers, but from the pain rushing through your body.    I give up.    She helps me to a collar and I’m her sobbing little bitch.    “’I wonder what else I can make you do’”, she says and we both giggle.    “Why don’t you try flogging me with a scallion bulb?”      Breakfast is served with pancakes and grape juice and scrambled eggs.    We both agree on getting an espresso after, at the café down the street.    “You’re a pancake maste

Lost tape Date rape The cum I scrape   Long time Built shrine He’s mine   No more I’m sore Hurt in the core   *** Bald lady at the window again This time, I wave Window still open   *** Warm sun through haze Skin burning and red “Shit, where’s the rain?” “Where’s your sunscreen?”   *** The stability of the moving box Brings an uncertainty to what is factual, Mysterious magic of movement In the cars and motorcycles, and roller skates. And I still remember the day I discovered flight For a hole on the ground threatened to Throw my life away for a few moments of marvel And destroy, once and for all, my magical desire of movement.   Urban mobility frightens my heart for Doesn’t matter the size, doesn’t matter the speed It all runs on magic, mysterious magic of which Our knowledge is barely speculation. At any moment of any day, anyone could lose a tooth, or a limb, or their lives For putting their most valuable possession on the line And trusting the factual uncertainty of movement. *** Br