Strange Season
Part One: The City
I moved to the city so I could forgive you,
But in the city, all I did was look for you,
In strangers’ eyes, in my new friend’s smile.
I moved to the city so I could forget you,
But in the city, all I did was find you—
At the train station, at the big malls,
In the voice of my neighbor’s son, in my new favorite songs.
I moved to the city, chasing happiness,
But in the city, I felt alone and unsure,
Each morning, wrapping myself in a quilt of multicolored fictions to get by.
Summer is setting in on the horizon now, and I want to go home.
It’s such a strange feeling: being at home, homesick.
Longing for the city rains, the train rides,
At nine p.m. on stolen weekends at the beach.
Whilst longing for the cruelty of the sun, the warmth of my friends' laughter,
On lonely nights in the city,
Lying in bed, lying to myself.
I thought I was happier than ever here, but I am not.
And it’s such a strange season— this running away, losing myself.
I want to go home where there´s no you, or hide at the beach,
You hate it so, at least I won’t find you there.
Part Two: The Beach
At the beach, I am in peace.
At it, I bury all my fears and regrets in the sand,
I build castles to demolish with all the anger
That lives inside my heart, grasped in two red fists.
At the beach, I let the seasons change my mind,
And the elements made a shire out of me.
I let the waves wash my sadness away and leave my soul clean,
I let the salt air rust the tears on my cheeks,
And the sun show me the way I really am.
At the beach, I dare to think, I dare to dream, I dare to want.
And what I want is to be loved the same way I love the ocean—
With a longing, an ache as deep and wide as its body of water.
I want to watch the moon dancing on someone’s eyes,
As we frantically collect seashells on the shoreline,
To decorate the drawn hearts holding our names inside.
Before the tide erases what we are.
At the beach, I sow all my hopes and dreams,
And have glimpses on its wavering horizon,
Of how happy I can be.