(2015)
1 Corinthians 13:4-8
How do you measure pain? All is relative and personal Even with one’s own self It is impossible to compare As memory distorts pain
Manos fuertes No me sueltan De la cama Yo les digo Me tengo que ir
If I could paint a man Eyes so dark they shine Brooding and stormy Til the smile breaks through If I could paint a man
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
We Are me and you Together Two hearts Two minds
Antisocial tendencies Amplified by sickness I can people watch Yet I can’t people talk I am lonely
Yo te amo Tres palabras Que solucionen todo Para la mujer Tan complicada
If I could draw a tree In all it’s complexity Would you be impressed? If I could draw a human face It would be but a trace
You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this
I crave stability Neither wandering spirit Nor home-body Yes I’d love to travel But the foundation
To love reading Writing and words And not be able to Communicate Frustrated
Que te cuentan un chiste Las palabras se traducen Pero el humor no se puede Por si no lo entiendes Ríete
Mis manchas de Bambi Manchas blancas Cubren mi cuerpo La gente se queda mirando Pero no les da asco
The whole world Aches and groans Do you feel her pain? The human in me Wants to heal mankind
No hay nada más sincero Que un regalo Inesperado Una carta Un chocolate