So, who is it that i'm looking for?

you, brown boy?

or the one behind you-

maybe it was the one before you.



hurt makes me painful.

tears release me of everything

but i don't allow them to fall-

wallowing in my thoughts is masochism.

a sweet reminding sting

that bleeds me.



my blood will turn red from blue,

my veins throbbing and pulsing

with the life draining from them.

pulsing and throbbing,

with my life.



you, a part of my life-

throbbing, red from blue, salty and in place.

i don't get you

my life

which is why i stay.



If i knew the rest

why would i stay to watch the end?

reading the last page of the book

even before it's written.

Where's my name?



you ain't rid of me,

not that easy

a-b-c, 1-2-3,

but i know something you don't-

Spanish.