Grace Vazquez

April 29, 2004 - Nuevo Leon, Mexico


Looking around feeling lost
Answering questions mechanically,
Saying you’re fine. But are you telling the truth?
How are you? How you’ve been? Have you slept?

Have you slept?

How many hours have you stayed up working? Writing? In the end, is it even worth it?
Are you working enough?
Why do you even do this?
You could be resting, enjoying your time doing nothing.

How many times have you thrown those writings away? Or tore them completely?
Didn’t you love this?
The ink on the paper, the beats in your head, the sounds that could be played with a simple touch
Didn’t you love it?
So why are you complaining? Why do you care so much about what she says?
Why can’t you get her out of your head?

Because she’s that close
She’s closer to you than anyone else.
You can’t shut her out, you can’t just stop listening.
No matter where you go, she will always be there.

But is this the price to pay?
Is ruining what you love worth it to please her?
When did you become like this? So weak, so submissive.
I thought you didn’t care.
That is
Cause you didn’t.
You have never cared
You have never listened

So why do it now? Why listen to her?
Listen to yourself
What is it that you want? Is she what you want?
Is this what you want?

Look around for a second
What do you see?
Even if she tries to stop you, you keep coming back
Because you are not crazy.
It’s in your blood.

Or is it?
Maybe you are crazy, maybe you should stop
But if you look around you
They’re still here.

Should you throw them away too?
Should you break your own heart for her happiness?
Do you love her that much?
Do you really love her that much?
Have you thought about that?

The truth is
You think too much
But you never think about you
And that’s how you are
No one can get you to change.

But her words
Her words have cut you deeply
Her words have reached your very dark places
She can get you to change

She cries
And you cry all night
What have you done wrong?
She apologizes
and then screams.
If you did it right, if you payed attention for once
Maybe if you weren’t here

But him,
He makes you want to keep doing what you love
“Thank you so much, you’re the best writer I know”
He shakes you completely and turns you against her
“It’s not about what she wants. She can’t decide for you, you know?”

He brings out the real you
He shares that love
He shares the passion
He will never get tired of reading what you write, of listening to what you play
He will never get tired of you.
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