Unremarkable

 

 Y es que si yo fuese palabras,  una parte de mi serían justamente estas...



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I am not a graceful person.

 

I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m.

 

 I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February.

 

My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness.

 

I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen.

 

The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm.

 

You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes"

 

 

 

 

 

 

PD. Lo siento, pero ya no soy tan purista, ni siquiera con ese idioma al que tanto amo.