Me arrancaste el alma…
and there, in the palm of my hand,
the bloody trace of
who I am, who I
might have been
…corazón destruido por latir…
the words come like a bolt
from the black,
will not be taken back
when the past strikes it hits like
a gunshot,
memory shrapnel to the back of the head
and leaves you for dead
…latiendo por destruir…
we die every moment
and live every death, a breath’s hesitation
a lifetime’s regret, until forgetfulness
comes and erases the line
between real pain and play
a world swept away in an instant of
always
…un espejo hecho añicos.