miércoles, 4 de mayo de 2016

Reality's knocking again

He told me it was a captious question when he asked me if I would stay,
he told me I was so stupid to say "no" and he hit me in the face
so that time I didn't even try to escape.
I said sorry even when I didn't feel it but he said it was not enough,
I am afraid you know? I don't have kids but I have a family though
and if I don't have what with that?
Do I deserve to die?
I'd like to spit him in the face,
I'd like to hit him and scream to him "fuck you, inside I'm already dead".
Have the courage to leave the house but he'll say "go ahead" and then he'll tie me to our bed and never let me move again.
And there's no way out here, he doesn't care if I bleed or I cry, he says is my fault when I ask "why?"
And now I'm mad when in the movies girls say "oh yes I love the bad guys".
My family don't know and police ask me to be shy 'cause they're part,
are you fucking joking kidding me? Look at my face it's bleeding!
But you don't care 'cause at the end of the day you'd get well paid anyway,
you'd be on that damn bar again, cheating your wife with that kidnapped women you call whores, screaming "oh yay, another nice day".
But let me tell you something fucking cop, you didn't help me? You satisfy your sad balls with minors in a shady brothel? And then you go walking with your children like a father model?
What a shame, officer, but I'm sure I have more dignity than you even when I let them hit me for my own sake, but at least I didn't sell my ass to belong to the high class, they don't even know you exist. Please, don't tell me that you thought you were Jesus Christ? You're a piece of nothing, you're not even snow, you're melted ice, and if there's a hell somewhere, well, there's where you'll end, that's the price. And I swear I'd kill you if I was like you. I'd kill him and you too, but you told me to be peaceful, yeah, even when I went crying to beg you for help with blood in my head, but you were just thinking in the money you'll spend on that brothel again.
And I know I'm not the only one so that's why I'm leaving this note
and I don't want to turn on the TV and see one of this quotes with my name below. I don't want somebody to tell me "oh just let it go".
I don't want nobody to tell me "this will pass, you'll find your Romeo".
I just want somebody to make something
'cause I call them and they say "yes, we're coming"
but they don't come, they do nothing at all,
I want the State and the policemen to say "present" when it comes to violence
that in this story, examples there are just a few
but in reality, I swear, there are more than two,
there are more and they hide it putting trash on television
but they're getting what they want: world's division.

martes, 3 de mayo de 2016

Juego de roles

Por ella él dejó los cigarrillos,
por él, ella empezó a fumarlos.
Después me dicen que el amor no es un vicio,
él dejó ese pero tenía otros,
mentir y drogarse a la madrugada
y después volver cuando el fin de semana
llegara al final.
Ella también tenía otros,
quererlo y perdonarlo,
quererlo más y esperarlo volver,
ah, y llorar los fines de semana.
Decían que era rara
porque le gustaban los lunes,
le gustaban los lunes porque él volvía a quererla.
Hay personas que se conforman con poco,
mejor dicho con nada
y mejor dicho todavía: con basura,
a la que le ponen otro nombre para que no suene tan mal.