si todavia estoy con vida

if i could speak a different language,

one that no one could understand,

i would speak to my bedroom wall

everything that i had kept inside

since the beginning of me,

a so-called man.

if i spoke this other language

then perhaps i could better

express myself when using 

the one i have trouble with,

english, and hopefully then,

people will understand

the words i had spoken when

i had finally finished.

it would be great, no better yet,

it would be grand

for you to get it, to get me,

but for now, as i try my hardest

to say what i really want to say,

no matter how i say it,

i know you will not understand.

so when i speak to you,

know that i am trying my best,

even if i come across as mean,

or even if i may seem

like i'm in a mess—

know that the words that i speak of,

mean you love and no less.

if i could speak a different language,

one that is not my own, 

perhaps then i would be free

from the trouble i have with the one

i have grown up with, english,

and maybe then you'll finally

understand me. maybe

after some time, when i figure

things out, this language

that i want to speak of,

is the language that you

and everyone else

since the beginning of man

calls, love.

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