Poema 11

Es tan frío como la forma en que te fuiste
y tan claro que no vas a volver. 

Es tan necesario como aprender a vivir sin vos
y tan pronto que no estoy lista. 

Es tan sincero como mis "te amo"
y tan confuso como los tuyos. 

Es tan intenso como la forma en la que te necesito 
y tan injusto que vos no. 

Es tan constante como pensarte 
y tan desesperante no poder ir a buscarte. 

Es tan asfixiante como no poder decirte todo lo que siento 
y tan doloroso que no te importe. 

Poema 10

¿Y si la única forma de seguir, 

es si me pierdo y abandono todo el peso?

¿Y si desde ahora ya no me encuentro? 

1

Losing connection
"es como si no estuvieras."

Poema 9

Darling, why those sad eyes? 
and why that broken smile? 
You got carried away by the past.


Darling, why are you walking so slow down that road?
And why frequently, you stop?
It seems you are not ready to get out. 


Darling, why do you sometimes turn around?
Are there still hopes?
You know what you're looking for is gone. 


Darling, why looking at that wall makes you sad?
What secrets does that square hide?
You're just trying to come back.

Poema 8

Fake smiles
to tranquilize
the worried eyes. 

Force laughs
to try to distract
from the mess inside. 


Pretend strength
to not appease the pain
with mistakes you can regret. 


Feign calm  
to wait for the time to arrive
and rebuild with all these remains. 

Poema 7

Your pieces in me are falling apart,

and my body is confused and doesn't know how to act.

And yes, it feels lighter but incomplete,

so please, please, come back to me.

I'm afraid of what will remain 
after all your chunks detach from mine. 
And I remember when we said, 
"Our atoms know each other too well". 

Poema 6

Destroy some bridges, hide your name.

Trying to forget, so it doesn’t hurt.

Seal the openings, bolt the gates.

There are still things I need to understand.

Clear the air, cast your ghosts.

This still feels like an horror show.

Poema 5

What if you are doing this too well?

And you convince me that you don’t care.

Darling, I don’t think you realize

the weight that you have in your hands.

I know we have plenty of time

and a life ahead of us.

But I still think we can regret

not knowing how to play.

Poema 4

You, always in the back of my mind

and my constant fear of relapse.

And, what if I say “one more time”?

Would it do so much harm?

If the two forces will continue to meet,

I don’t think I can resist.

So, go ahead, drag me to the depths,

I want to see what you see.

Poema 3

And if in my darkest times,

I still need you by my side

What does that say of you and I?

And if in despite of all this,

I need you right here

Would you come back to me?

Poema 2

I wanted to write a poem called “Coward”,  

because… I guess it’s all you are,

since you couldn’t look me in the eye

and hid as you buried the knife.

I wanted to write a poem called “Weak”,

because… You couldn’t stand watching me bleed

and you took your stuff to flee,

while I was begging on my knees.

I wanted to write a poem called “Naïve”,

because… you still don’t know what love is,

and you didn’t care, and said it to me

and I decided to believed you, when you did.

Poema 1

As the sky was getting dark,

and the spirits fell apart,

she decided to withdraw,

leaving the city burning down.

When the smiles were hard to find,

and the fear of the past, arrived,

she took her horse and escaped,

leaving the kingdom she built, destroyed oneself.

Empezamos

"La Reina Ungulada" es un seudónimo que me di a mi misma. La historia no es larga, ni complicada, pero no tengo ganas de contarla. Mi nombre real es Rosario, María del Rosario y no soy católica. Las ironías de mi vida empiezan ahí y no terminan más. No tengo aires de escritora y no planeo serlo. Solo escribo cosas, como todo el mundo. Los únicos escritos que espero que lean más de diez personas son publicaciones científicas. Sin embargo, necesito que las cosas que escribo no se queden abandonadas en un cuaderno en el que ni yo voy a posar los ojos en unos meses. De la forma en que lo veo yo, es más valioso abandonar un blog en los confines del internet, que un cuaderno en la repisa de mi cuarto. Así que dono mis cosas, cuya calidad no aseguro en lo absoluto, a la humanidad por medio de la interweb. Los versos que escribo, en su mayoría, los escribo en inglés ¿Por qué? La verdad es que no sé del todo, es algo que hago hace más de una década.