What good is forgetting if I need forgiveness?
What good is forgiveness to me if I cannot forget?
Last night I broke the mirror, I can't stand my reflection anymore.
This face is not mine, these eyes claim your name,
the one that swallowed my tears like liquor,
the one who drank my blood until he left a bruise.
But me... where do I fit in?
But I... but I.
I wasn't there, I was never in me.
I stayed on the trip: an ordinary April 20,
but it was July, and I no longer had a hangover.
It was July, and I ran out of soul, it was July, and I took yours.
I don't need to forget, I don't want your forgiveness anymore,
in my mind only our last night remains
and the darkened room.
Photographers: Cecilia Gómez de Villavedón
