When he's gone it will be easier

When he's no more you'll be quiet at last. You'll have your precious silence, 'cause no one will be there listening to the music that brings you so many bad memories. There won't be any chords nor lyrics interrupting your moments of peace. You're also going to enjoy of hours in front of the TV with no one asking you to change the channel and no one will bother you when laying down in bed using your computer either.

At nights you'll have no problems sleeping, as no one will be turning around in bed nor staying awake watching movies. You'll wake up late because no one will have to get uo early making noises that take you out from your dreams.

When he's gone there's going to be less expenses: food for one, shower for one, needs and whims just from one. You'll have all the space your things require and there'll be no mess 'cause everything will be place according to your taste. You'll also be able to buy more and more things because he's not going to be there watching you with angry faces.

Without him things will seem a lot easier, surely...
...no one is going to wake you up 'cause you'll be sleeping alone...
...no one will get mad at you when shopping because there'll be no one with you...
...no one will take food from your fridge 'cause you'll have no onw to share the meals with...
...and if you're sick you won't be bother because there'll be no one to take care of you.

No one... things will seem a lot easier, but what sense could they have if there's no one with you.

Waking up

Sometimes you come to my dreams, even if I don't want to dream about you, and you seem as real as the pages I write because of you. When less expected you come to steal the warmth of my sheets, your eyes fixed in my as if you were looking for a word, maybe a caress able to show my hidden feelings. Luck and misfortune to see you fade when I'm already defeated by sincerity and my hands are ready to feel your skin. What a terrible fate couldn't be able to have you even in my dreams.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and the sweet tone of your voice calls me from the dark night. When I finally decide to follow you, you are taken by the same breeze fading the ecco of my pleas. Desperation invade me when I can't reach you, even feeling you closer that you have ever be, maybe that you'll ever be. Your silouette appears at last between the shadows after seeking you in complete darkness for what seemed hours, but I wake up with the first light of the morning starting to enter through the window.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I have to suffer a terrible wait to know the taste of your being. But even though I'm caught by your arms, I think when that happens the pain is worse. By giving me entirely to your caress, even suspecting that you are just a fantasy, the waking brings the pain of your absence that increases when I feel in my sheets the smell of your skin, as if you really were here.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I don't know what's more difficult to bare: that it's you or it's only a dream.

Hipnotizame - Fobia

Gazes, silences

The tickling in the skin started. I don't need to turn to know you are watching me.

I search you in the known faces to find your little eyes, that seem to have secretly wated for this moment. For a few second I'm trapped by your unalterable smile, and I wish that at least this time I'm the reason giving it life. Just a look of distance and we must obey the inexorable coldness of the silent game.

We both turn away. I hope time runs fast and so our eyes could meet again soon.

*****

No. You can't know I'm watching you this way.

It's better when you don't notice me, when you keep observing the world with you terrible gravity and you forget my existence. I rather be invisible that just a child looking at you as stupefied by your eyes which seem to read everything, which could discover all of my secrets. I don't want you to know I feel clumsy when I see you arriving, though sometimes I think you suspect.

Too late, your eyes are fixed on mine. I have to turn.

*****

Here we go again. A new gaze.

Time escapes while I wait for a word to brake the routine, capable of taking the casuality to the clandestine encounters with your eyes. I wish it falls from your mouth to keep the magic, you say it because I'm not allowed.

*****

I hate having to silence what I feel. I hate understand at last that thing about feeling like a teenager when your eyes... oh, no. There they are again. Don't look at me, please, not in front of everyone. Do it when nobody can notice it, not even you.

I want to hear your voice calling my name when only I could hear it.

*****

A bell rings in the distance.

'That's all for today. We'll meet again on monday.'

Everyone start leaving the classroom, except for a girl trying to settle her uniform.

'Is there anything you wish to tell me, Francisca?'

'No, nothing professor. Until monday.'

Another story without an end.

Cancel that thought

I don't know what to do with this, it's driving me insane.
I just can't go on with it, fancying you naked.
It's not that I don't want to, I'm not stopping for the shame.
It's just that I can go out to the street with the lust in my face.
Because I see you in every woman, but you are in none.
It's time to tell my mind to cancel that thought.

Désert - Emilie Simon

Under the moon

The night has just started.

Under the moonlight the crowd continue moving with its routinary rhythm, unable to notice the silent presence of an unusual witness. He preffers it like that, being invisible to the unease gaze of the mass, keeping himself away from the emotions submiting the group in front of his eyes to a life without meaning. No matter what happens he stays quiet, avoiding his breathe to add the agitation provoke by his desires.

His heart hasten. Captive by the exquisite female silhouette that caused the sudden emotion, his gaze is attracted to the center of the impertubable crowd. He decide to approach, moving slowly to avoid attention of those surrounding her. He doesn't want to be seen. He mustn't be seen.

The moon reflects in his anxious eyes. He can feel the adrenaline running through his veins with every step that gets him closer to her. He must have her, he needs to enjoy the touch of her skin while he puts her under the strenght of his instincts. She's young, tempter, her shy eyes call him to take her.

Trapped in the spell of her thin body he makes a mistake. The silence has broken, the crowd is startled by the stranger attacking. She stays put, paralized in front of the powerful gaze moving closer and closer, absorbed by hundreds of emotions she can't control. He's about to reach her.

Before he's eyes there's only her, unable to move and run like the rest. A quick move and all finishes. Between his fangs he imprisons the neck of his victim, feeling the pityful moanings of a life reaching its end. The taste of blood crawls down his throat while she sees life escaping in an stertor.

A howl brakes the silence of the night. The pack has arrived.

He has proved his value once more, he has prove to the everyone he's the alpha male.

Teaspoon

A cigarette lits the night.

Against his wishes, time is once again consumed by the memory of a woman, the woman he can't get off his head, because even though thinking hasn't affect his sleep, he feels uncomfortable facing what she provokes in him. He hasn't felt this way for long, facing the strange pleasure those emotions cause. Knowing that in the dark of his room he can't be seen (she can't see him) he smiled satisfied.

There have been some hours since he was with her, but he can still see her flirty face smiling before saying 'don't miss me too much'. He only smiled back, to see her fade later in the crowd without daring to say he already missed her. The memory has filled his mind with doubts. Maybe he should said it, confessed he misses her sweet face and her coquette eyes, tell her how much he likes to always agree with her, admit her presence cautivate him in a way time had made so unusual. But he didn't, he doesn't know if he will ever tell her.

Doubts kept making him feel even more uncomfortable. He wanders if maybe she hides something behind her words, if her smile hides some secret until this moment undecipherable to him. What should he do the next time he see her? Keep playing the game? Will she keep playing? He wants answers, but he wants them full of sweet mysteries, as it has been since the beginning.

The clouds that covered the night sky are gone. His face is illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Sometimes he'd like to have the emotional range of a teaspoon like the rest of his gender, not to feel so many things...

...but not tonight...

...not with her...

A cigarette dies.

The fight

'It's not going to defeat me... it can't defeat me...'

Beatriz found herself facing again her usual antagonist. She glared at the opponent in silence for a few minutes, absorbed by complex thoughts she couldn't put in order and only made more difficult the arrival of a new battle. She breathed agitated, almost crying in despair for seeing the enemy in front of her, as cold as usual, lacking of emotions. In nights like that she couldn't do more than hate the foe.

The night kept going on, fading with every turn of the clock. She was still captive of the ideas, watching her opponent while lighting a new cigarette though it wouldn't calm the anxiety that invaded her knowing she couldn't do anything. Hours had passed when at last she could threw herself against the enemy to end the torture. She wasn't going to be defeated, she couldn't be defeated.

***

A new day was starting. Beatriz smiled satisfied while rushing to get ready. Minutes later she was leaving her home, and though she was exhausted she couldn't do more that feel joy for having in her hands the last essay of the term.

The whole night she battled against the computer and now she could finally say she was on free.