I recognize this smell. Once again, I make my way into despair’s waiting room. I’m shame’s commander-in-chief; self-pity’s whore. I have the intention of a saint but the body of a sailor.
Forgive me for I have abused my abuse
Etiqueta: God
Caring?
"Caring?"—he replied, confused. It wasn’t a word most people used to describe him. "Yes. Caring and loving," said the man, legs wide open as he pushed himself in.
Trinidad de limusinas
Cuando me pienso bueno, el reflejo de las cosas se burla de mí y en la calle recitan mi pasado gente que desconoce mi nombre.
Diario: «the heart is the answer»
The world does not need more trash. It would be selfish of us to create without conscience—a sin I’ve committed before, and one I’m not exempt from committing again. But how can we avoid producing disposable, smelly shit?
La noche que lloré entre extraños, pollo frito y champán
Entonces, Alonso, el chico que me gustó en la fiesta, me preguntó inesperadamente: "¿Qué te gustaría que Dios pensara de ti?".
Benjamín Cedeño 