Me.

Yo soy yo.
Acelerada, melancólica,
indulgente, versátil,
desconfiada hasta el hartazgo,
amiga, amante, hermana, mujer.

Yo soy.

Era, soy y seguiré siendo.
Con o sin espejos, sin máscaras ni carnavales,
con mucha risa y poco llanto.
Con fe y con esperanza pese a todo.
Claro que soy yo.

Soy de cenizas fértiles,
de sollozos impulsivos y carcajadas inmediatas.
Tengo el alma de miel y de canela,
y la carne fraguada en salmuera.
Siendo, soy.
Soy tus sueños y pesadillas,
tus días y tus noches;

Soy la que permanece siempre, la sempiterna
la callada entre las sombras,
la que destella entre alaridos.
Soy yo, ¿Quién más si no?

Soy la que se queda,
la de paciencia infinita y sin memoria,
la de atardeceres rojos y amaneceres azules,
soy quien pone a prueba tu cordura.
Sí, yo soy.Y me declaro vanidosa como la única:
soy la primera y la última…
a la que amas, por la que lloras,
con la que sueñas, a la que añoras.

Understand.

' With you I didn't

meet love,

but began

understanding it '.

Sick.

I'm sick of this, sick of having to follow orders and instructions. I'm sick of not being able to be me without trying to make everyone happy. I'm tired of trying to be someone I'm not just to be accepted. I'm exhausted of the bad mood my house gets me into. I'm sick of how unfair it is when I get grounded for something I didn't do. I'm sick of being unable to go wherever I want however I want, just because it could get dangerous. I'm tired of being a grown up for some things but still a child for others. I'm sick of having to wait for things I want to happen. I'm sick of not having any place to cry on my own. I'm fed up with having to scream holding on to a pillow just not to wake anyone up from their sleep. I'm tired of having to share my bedroom with some kind of person-ish being who can't understand that she's not the only one who lives there. I'm sick of doing stuff I'm not supposed to, just to get the permission to do stupid things. I'm exhausted of the fact that stepping outside my house to go anywhere is a challenge. I'm sick of being still father-dependant. I'm tired of thinking there's a long list of things I won't ever be able to do just because when I am old enough to do them without asking, I'll be way too old to do them. I'm sick of watching how everything I try to do right goes wrong. I'm tired of trying to be normal. I'm sick of doing things all day long and just be seen when I stop doing them, and be grounded for not doing anything, when in fact, I've been doing stuff all day long. I'm exhausted of having so much anger inside and nothing to discharge it on. I'm sick of locking myself in the bathroom to cry in silence. I'm sick of having seventeen years and still go asking for permission for the silliest things.

I'M SICK OF BEING UNABLE TO BE ME WITHOUT HAVING TO EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO ANYONE.