“Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.”

03 March, 2011

Hay un buitre en mi hombro y me está diciendo que me rinda;
Siempre silbando, justo en mi oído, como si viniera de mi propia mente.
Me tiene confundida, tratando de no rendirme;
Dime que hay una manera de salir de aquí, oh, igualados a cero.
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