Favela não venceu favela resiste

Takkan Kembali

Aura Universe 1

Aggressive Motivation

Tempo Tão Cruel | Subaru

Hoje Eu Rimo Pro Senhor

N-WORD - SEGHE (Parodia CENERE)

Холодно. Тихо. Но внутри — слишком громко.
MALAYA — «Жиганская болезнь»

Жиганская болезнь

En Algun Lugar

Deep Peaceful Sleep

Deep Sleep Ambient

This piece, that part

Little me, house to house, trash bag riding shotgun
Never knew if food would come or hope was just another one
Fridge humming, stomach loud, winter creeping through my teeth
Learned real young not to ask for what was never mine to keep

Mom dipped, pops bent, whole weight in his rib cage
Watched him fight stress, rent, debt, rage on the same page
I was just a kid with a grown-man type of caution
Heart full of need, mouth shut, eyes wide watching

Wanted love, wanted fam, wanted trust I could believe
Wanted eyes on me like I was somebody they would keep
But I got silence, got distance, got passed around instead
Got too good at smiling with a war inside my head

I wanted arms, I wanted home
Wanted a name that felt like my own
Something that didn’t disappear
Somebody rooted, somebody here

This piece, that part
Couldn’t tell what broke in me from what broke at the start
House to house, bag in the back
Got too damn used to living with the dark
Wanted arms, wanted home
Wanted one voice saying, “You’re enough”
Nobody came through, so I became
A whole damn man from what they couldn’t love

Got older, hunger changed, it sounded more like “please don’t leave”
Different kind of starving when your body learns to beg in sleep
Some nights all of me would shake, past flashing in the glass
Car I bought, house I built, still felt haunted by the past

Backtrack, slow steps, smoke chest, jaw tense
Past pressed hard every time I got close to content
Found that boy in the corner with his whole grief on mute
Tears locked down, trying hard not to shake the room

Looked him in the face and said, “I see you, little man
I know they left you cold where love was supposed to stand
But you made it. You’re still here. And I ain’t leaving again.”
That was the night survival lost and healing learned to mend

Maybe God saw all the armor, called it stone instead of scarred
Maybe that’s what happens when your first idea of love is loss and guard
You pour your heart in open hands, it comes back full of splinters
So you learn to read affection like a threat wrapped up in whispers

But I gathered every fragment, every fracture, every flame
Learned no wound gets final say just ’cause it knows my middle name
Found hands that didn’t vanish when the room got hard to breathe
Found love that stayed awake with me and didn’t flinch when I went deep

Now that empty house is quieter, that backseat lost its teeth
All that dust and doubt and damage doesn’t get the last word on me
Built from wreckage, yes, but wreckage turned to architecture
Turned their mess into a message, turned that pressure into texture

This piece, that part
Now I know what broke in me from what broke at the start
House to house, bag in the back, I made it every mile of dark
Wanted arms, wanted home
Now there’s a voice saying, “You’re enough”
Nobody came through, so I became
A whole damn man from what they couldn’t love

This piece, that part
That hurt, that scar
I carried every shard
Didn’t fall apart

This piece, that part
That scared kid, that dark
I made me whole
This piece, that part

Already Home

I love playing with words, finding new ways to put them together to express what I feel. I hope my poems encourage others to share their feelings openly and honestly. My aim is to paint pictures with words, making them sing in a way that touches everyone's heart and mind. Through my poetry, I want to create moments that everyone can see themselves in, exploring emotions and thoughts that connect us all.

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