ENTITLED TO IT

Take it all or lose it all,
i don’t care for me it’s the same.
In between of more or less 
I found you dancing.

Turn to see me walk away,
or just look the other way. 
In the crime scene of my beats
I found you pacing.

‘Cause there’s a vynil in my brain,
and it tends to play on loop;
there’s a part of me that’s scared
of its own darkness.

‘Cause there’s no room for black & white,
and there’s no air for make believe;
there’s a body by my feet,
it’s us we’re wasting.

‘Cause there’s a vynil in my brain,
and it tends to play on loop…

So take my bus fair, 
my steel watch,
my old rings,
don’t take my name.

So take my bus change,
my glass vase,
my key chain,
don’t drain my veins.

‘Cause there’s a vynil in my brain,
and it tends to play on loop;
there’s a part of me that’s seeking 
brand new endings.
‘Cause there’s no room for black & white,
and there’s no air for make believe;
I feel entitled to the end
of this beginning.

‘Cause there’s no room for black & white,
and I tend to play on loop…
sol

A los 10 años encontró refugio de la ciudad de la furia en una máquina de escribir. Más tarde conectaría con la escritura de viajes en un intento de traducir la mirada poética sobre el mundo que la rodea. Desde entonces, se ha alejado y ha vuelto a la poesía como quien vuelve a los brazos del amante: buscando calor.

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“Palabra por palabra y minuto a minuto; querer tocar”
—Robin Myers— ❧

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