Rodrigo Cervantes.
Sin título. 2021. Fotografía digital.

I was passed out on the floor after the downfall, and there´s blood of both, tick and covers all the wooden floor, our bodies are sinking into the dark promise we made, there´s not enough love that can save us.

I was wonderstruck by the energy within you, and all that force threw a glass at me that broke the window of the living room, letting the air take every bit of love I used to feel, that was the first time the violence won, and the need for you it´s breaking me apart, would it be better to be beaten and at the same time loved by you? I can´t picture myself leaving, leaving after I asked the blood moon to give me the courage to stay.

There’s not enough wine that can heal me, I searched the party for glasses so I can keep drinking and sinking into my own bitterness. I lost my lighter and started crying in the bathroom, staring directly at my reflection in the mirror while the black liner made a mess all over my face, wishing you can tell me how to act, what all of this means. I want to talk to you about my nightmares, the floor dissolved and ancient ghosts are haunting the tree house.

So if I ask you to leave, would you? Even if I begged for you to stay prior to the downfall? This house brings back every haunting memory about our share story, it brings back the wine and the bruises. The nights passed out in the living room after an ugly fight, after the heavy drinking, after the promise, you promise it would be the last time your touch made me ache, but like a wicked king you had me at your feet. Leave me, please.

The ghosts follow me into the room, I know you can hear them, whispering to you to let me go. I want to find a way to love again, I want the courage to leave. But I´m not sure if you will hunt me until the end of the road. Maybe when we spoke about it before, about the future, we jinx it. Ivy covering all, infected the ground, rotten wooden. I´m in bed, staring at the ceiling, salt tears from my eyes to my ears, silent cries, giving away the failure of this story.

No sé para que publico, de todas formas no ves mis indirectas.