Santiago Lopez

You had me at hello.
Hurt me with goodbye.
Tears certainly drip from my eyes.
The smell of you... still on my clothes.
...

Do you feel the love, its magical fire.
The sensation of my body against yours.
My spirit and yours are intertwined.
As your aura and mine become one.
...

If these walls could talk. They would tell the stories of countless souls. Souls with solitary hearts. The cries and screams of damaged lives. Of broken roads. Trapped beings. Behind these prison walls.

If these walls could talk they would tell countless stories. Stories of men and women who went beyond their means. Thinking that they could be above the law. And live unseen.
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Ever since I was a child.
I had these images of what I would evolve to be.
Dreams of what my world would be like.
All the desires my heart could conjure.
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Beautiful Confusion

Points of light hit distances beyond the path that is seen.
Screams elude my ears for the pitch is too high.
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In a moment of her silence.
Silence of solitude.
Meditation of her day.
Taken back by her memories.
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Stalked promiscuously.
Always lurking.
Never lonely.
Watching me.
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Born alone to die alone, my heart is encased in stone.
Every fracture it encounters is a path to my evolution.
And you say your blood drips to a painless river of fear.
Yet underneath it all you still seem to disappear.
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Tortured in a realm of isolation.
Where souls go from degradation.
Coldness felt all around in a place so hot.
Monotonous purgatory on a mountain top.
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Feet planted, shovel in hand.
Standing on the ground.
I feel like an archaeologist.
For I want to go deeper into finding out.
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The stage is set for the night.
Dimmed beams of candlelight.
Flowered bed of roses.
Champagne bottles on ice, glasses for a toast.
...