I want to undress you, to see your body free in all its splendor. To admire your beauty as well as your imperfections, those that make me fall in love with them at first sight. It is those captive marks on your skin that make me the person I have fallen in love with, like prey in a trap. Let me love you in my own way, uniting our bodies in a single wandering soul, drunk from so much love. Let us go away in a bottle of liquor, let our hearts forget everything else and become addicted to each other.

Let me taste your flesh. Let me savor your past, captive in your present. Let me feel the marks trapped in your own agony, let me make you feel they are not foreign, let me make you feel they are part of you. Let me help you make your yesterday part of your today.

I want to eat the larvae that live inside you. I want to rid you of them, and swallow them, savor their bitterness.

I feel the need to have you by my side again, I deeply yearn to feel your body next to mine once more, to know that you're here and that you won't leave, that we'll see two hundred moons pass by together. Your lips have become an addiction to me, like that liquor that intoxicates us and makes us lose ourselves in our minds where only your image is on repeat. The taste of your blood is what I want to taste again and again, as if it were the first time.

I love you. "I love you" is the simplest way to tell you what I feel for you, but I love you so much that thousands of ways come to mind to express what I feel for you, even as I feel incapable of expressing it exactly as I feel it. With you, I want to be much more than something fleeting; I want to be something eternal, to live life to the fullest and die by your side, the only side I was always meant to be on, the side I should have listened to clearly from the very beginning. I long to start a family with you and go far, far away, where what terrifies us no longer matters, and the only thing we need to be okay is to look into each other's eyes and lose ourselves in the emptiness of the other, that emptiness we never want to leave, to become two white veils dancing in perfect harmony with each other, while the light only has eyes for us. May the sunlight bathe our skin, longing for one another. While you shine like the most precious metal, I can only admire the beauty before me, feeling fortunate to have you in my life. I want to be the 56 herbs that fill what your heart lacks so it can be well, so you can smile with a simple glance, a simple phrase, and so you know you always carry me with you. When I'm with you, I feel like a child with amnesia, lost in the immensity of our love that fills me and calms me instantly. Your arms are the only ones that calm me, the only ones in which I feel better than ever before, and in which I long to sleep while we watch two hundred full moons pass before us. Perhaps it won't be the years we hope to spend together, but only months; the only thing that matters to me is that they are with you, because with you, every second feels like a whole lifetime, living it as we dream it every night.

The cold embraces me the same way you used to. I no longer feel the hands covering my face, which is now only stained with the red that emerges from my flowers—withered flowers that rot more with each passing day, rubbed by time that weakens them and leaves them trampled. Only their thorns defend them, but it's no longer enough, not anymore. All I can do is tear off the petals as quickly as possible, to avoid noticing that, unintentionally, they fall to the ground. The nectar that gave life to the flowers trickles away, fleeing far, far away, to quench the thirst of seeing the flowers torn to pieces.

What do I feel now? Why do I feel this way? These are questions that have no answers, or perhaps I simply don't know them. I don't recognize myself. I am absent from my body, just as I am from my mind. It doesn't belong to me. It doesn't think as I do. And it is these conflicting thoughts that give way to entanglements, absurdities, that make me feel foolish. And that is what I am. What I will eternally be. An absurd mind. Alienated from its body. Destined for death, just like every mortal.

Your body is as fragile as glass, I see right through it, it's the only one I want to protect and the one I long to stay by Your skin is like paper that dampens with your sorrows, fills with sad verses once more, verses I burn with my candles Your eyes, which play with me, tell me things that aren't true, they lie, but they are my shelter and only in them do I find a reason It could be the saddest night of all and still you would be here, so beautiful, worthy of my odes Eternal, eternal until the end

Tear out my eyes, use them to see as I see you. Perhaps then you will understand the reason for my love...

I feel an overwhelming urge to mutilate my skin, but I can't, because it isn't truly mine. It's not my property; it lives attached to me, but nothing more. It merely covers the corpse I carry beneath it. To mutilate it is disrespectful to the one who patiently and lovingly wove it, a waste that makes me feel pathetic. How can I be like this, having everything? How can I scorn the blessing of this body because of the absurdity of the thought? There's little left to do, for the mind is one of the most powerful forces

My love, in these three months we've been together, you've made me happier than you can imagine. Every second with you is wonderful and makes me never want to leave your side. All I want is to never be apart from you again and spend my whole life with you, without paying attention to anything else. I know I sometimes make you angry or jealous with Cony, but I want you to know that I would never trade you, not for her or anyone else. No one could ever compare to you, to your beauty, your charisma, your craziness, your mind, your talent, to mention just a few of the things that drive me crazy about you. You are my greatest feeling; nothing can compare to you. You are my reason for living, my reason for striving, my reason for not mutilating my skin, because I want to preserve it for you. I could tell you a thousand times that I love you and extend this message to thousands of lines, but it wouldn't be enough to express what I feel for you. I'm so sorry we can't see each other today, but whether physically or not, I'm always with you, always by your side, and as long as you have me in your life, you'll always have a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell your problems to, and someone to advise you and help you through difficult times, unconditionally. I would give you my heart, my body, my soul, and my life just so you could be happy. I would let you bite me, scratch me, or mutilate me just to give you pleasure. You deserve all my love and so much more, because you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life, and I feel so lucky to be able to look at you and say that this is my girlfriend, my girl, my life, my skinny one, and my future wife. Someday we will fulfill our dream, and it's no longer just a wish or a hope, because I'm sure we will get married, we will go to the south together, and you will be the mother of my children, and we will raise them together. I can only thank you for these three wonderful months, because you've made me feel like the most special person in the world, and having you in my life, I couldn't ask for anything more. Happy three months, my love.

Last night I fell asleep thinking of you, while a melody filled my ears, accompanied by lyrics that spoke of you in every verse, and when I closed my eyes, I could see once again that future I envision every night I fall asleep thinking of you. That future where it's just you and me, and perhaps one of the fruits of our love, one of those that arrive to change our lives forever. I see you there, sitting, watching the sunset with a cup of coffee in your hand and a cigarette burning between your fingers. I sit beside you, we share the cigarette, we share caresses, we laugh together and watch the sun disappear behind the trees. We gaze at the stars until exhaustion overcomes us and we go to the bed we share to rest together. I wake up with the sun on my skin and I see you there, asleep, without makeup, your beauty laid bare, for me to admire every morning. Just looking at you fills me with a strange feeling of happiness and pride, because I can say that it's you, it's only you. You are my wife.

You could break a thousand times, and each thousand times I would gather your pieces and put you back together. You are my reason for being, the reason I maintain my sanity and strive to keep my mind connected to my body. In the sky, you are the sun, for you are the largest and brightest star, and without you the moon lacks the brilliance that gives it its grace and its life.

I could cry oceans, but from the drought in my eyes a flower would be unable to live.

Perhaps I am just a corpse, a corpse that loves for the sake of loving, that feels for the mere need to feel something. I want to dig into my wounds until I find the life that flowed from me years ago, innocence was the anesthetic that kept me oblivious to this world. Suicide is imminent, my flesh bleeds to pay.

I don't understand you. I hate you. I want you to leave, to leave me here alone, bleeding out. I don't want to improve for you, I don't want to make an effort for you or anyone else, I want to keep opening myself up without feeling guilty. I want you to stop being sarcastic, to not care if I do drugs or not, or if I live or die. I want you to see me as a momentary distraction, something that only exists when I'm with you. I hate your friends, I hate your family, I hate your pets, I hate you, I despise you, your face, your body, your scars disgust me. Everything I said I loved makes me nauseous. I hate that you have a life, that it's not just about me. I hate when you go out, when you talk to someone else, when you tell your best friend what we do or what we talk about. I hate that you criticize me, even though you're always right. Stop telling me what I should and shouldn't do. Stop telling me if I need to try harder, if I need to change, if I need to improve. Stop telling me not to hold back because otherwise we won't work, that I don't have friends because I don't want them, that I push away everyone who cares about me, that I'm condemning myself. Please be quiet, stop talking to me even if you're right. I don't want to hear your voice anymore, or anything you say. I don't want you to be with me anymore because that means I have something to lose.

I'm afraid of losing you, but it's impossible not to return to that thought knowing my mind is full of contradictions; my mind is a contradiction in itself. I want to improve for you and be a better man, but at the same time, I have neither the desire nor the energy to do so, nor would I be willing to have them for you. I love you with an obsession I've never felt before, and just as I can only think of you, there are times when I long for you to leave, to simply abandon me, to not care at all how I feel or what I try, because I don't care either. I love spending time with you, and even time feels so different when I'm with you, but there are times when I can't stand you; I can't stand your voice, your jokes, your personality, how you are with me or with your friends. I am a constant contradiction; I love and I hate. And I detest being this way.

I don't feel like loving you. I don't feel like asking for your forgiveness. I only feel a strange revulsion, contradictory to the words I wrote just months ago; a revulsion for everything you do. An absolute hatred for any interaction you have with another person, any friend you go out with, eat with, laugh with, talk with; anything you do with someone else that makes you feel good. It's contradictory, because I love you, I love you more than anything, but I'm not capable of being happy for your happiness, I'm not capable of feeling comfortable with the idea of you enjoying yourself with someone else, whoever they may be. My hands tremble thinking about this incomprehensible mix of love and hate I feel for you and for everything that surrounds you. I even hate that you do things that are good for you. I hate that you play volleyball, that you talk to your teammates, or that you're pushed physically the way I'd like to be. But I just rot in bed, on the verge of tears, as I write this. It might be envy; simply seeing you live a normal life, knowing that if I tried to live a similar life, I'd end up sabotaging myself, like I always do... As I write this, I feel such an intense mix of hate, love, rage, revulsion, disgust, and so many other things, that the temptation to run a razor blade across my skin again intensifies, but I would never break a promise I made to you.

I open the window; it's three in the morning. The cold air rushes in and embraces me, enveloping me. It feels warm because I want to be there, not because it actually is. The cold reminds me of her, the woman who buried herself. The way it enters is as if her breath were once again hitting my chest. Despite everything, I don't miss her. It's just a strange feeling of nostalgia, thinking about those moments when, without realizing it, I acted so stupidly, just as I always have. Maybe I'm acting the same way now, or worse, or a little better. I won't realize it until months, or years later, because that's how it always is. Right now, I look back and realize how stupid I've been my whole life, and maybe I still am, only now I don't see it. But what terrifies me most is that she might see it, and see me the way I see my former self.

I feel an emptiness in my chest. I don't connect with emotions, I don't connect with feelings, I don't connect with people. I don't connect with life. It disgusts me, it makes me want to take the lives of others, I hate seeing everyone else enjoying themselves while I feel like everything I do ends up consuming more of the little energy I feel I have left. Maybe it's not disgust, maybe it's just envy seeing everyone leading seemingly normal lives. I see them enjoying things, friendships, outings, activities, and I don't. For me, they're useless distractions, only to end up feeling just as horrible at the end of the day when I realize I'm still trapped under this skin. I feel incapable of leading a normal life because I don't even remember what it means to live anymore.

I am not, I do not exist, I do not pretend to be, nor to exist I am comfortable in the abyss between existing and not existing In the tranquil swim without a defined form, without a name, nor a home to reach No one awaits me in the immense darkness, only the echo of the water that bathes my skin I am not happy, much less sad, I only feel peace that at last there is nothing.

I hate these holidays, or any like them. I hate New Year's, Christmas, Halloween, my birthday—they've completely lost their meaning. I no longer look forward to them with the same excitement as when I was little; they don't fill me with the same joy. Maybe it's because the point of these holidays is to spend time with family, and I no longer have anything I recognize as family.