cadaveres-literarios
Se manifiesta de entre las sombras, se abre paso entre los cuerpos danzantes; suda, se ríe, camina con la mirada perdida. Sus ojos buscan en las luces parpadeantes fugaces respuestas; se mira a sí misma en los ojos de extraños y ella sonríe, camina, entiende por qué y el quizás, pero no lo cuestiona. Se desvanece con cada trago para no pensar.
Se manifiesta de entre las sombras, se abre paso entre los cuerpos danzantes; suda, se ríe, camina con la mirada perdida. Sus ojos se buscan en las luces parpadeantes, fugacez respuestas; se mira a sí misma en los ojos de extraños y ella sonríe, camina, entiende el porque y el quizás, pero no lo cuestiona. Se desvanece con cada trago para no pensar.
Right next to the pile of shit that you have accumulated underneath your pillow over the years are the decomposed bodies of the people you have let down. Right next to you while you sleep are all those who died because of you; one word muttered wrong, one sigh of annoyance, one missed call, those are all the bodies. The shit, it rubs off and it can be cleaned, but those bodies will forever be lying there with you, dining on your table, sitting on your couch, showering in your bathtub. They can't be burned or buried and they won't leave your side. When you turn around at night and feel their cold, bony hands grasping your hair or your body, you will remember, each case, each voice; and though their faces won't ever haunt you, there's nothing worse than hearing their voices resonating in your ears.