{"id":4114,"date":"2025-07-28T02:38:22","date_gmt":"2025-07-28T09:38:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gabroverse.com\/?p=4114"},"modified":"2026-05-01T14:04:14","modified_gmt":"2026-05-01T21:04:14","slug":"dos-contra-uno-y-aun-asi-sali-mas-fuerte","status":"publish","type":"storyboards","link":"https:\/\/gabroverse.com\/es\/unfiltered\/storyboards\/meltdown-memoirs\/poetry-panic\/dos-contra-uno-y-aun-asi-sali-mas-fuerte\/","title":{"rendered":"Dos Contra Uno (y A\u00fan As\u00ed Sal\u00ed M\u00e1s Fuerte)"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Nunca me ha gustado eso de \u201ctuvo suerte de sobrevivir\u201d<\/strong><\/em>.
<\/mark>No, beb\u00e9. Yo decid\u00ed seguir vivo.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

CDMX, 2017<\/strong> (antes del terremoto)<\/em>.
Viv\u00eda y ense\u00f1aba ah\u00ed, con papeles y con cari\u00f1o, como si la ciudad me hubiera adoptado.
Porque lo hizo.
Me regal\u00f3 alumnos que me hac\u00edan re\u00edr y me hac\u00edan llegar tarde.
Me regal\u00f3 atardeceres entre el smog y banquetas que ol\u00edan a tortillas y sudor.
Me regal\u00f3 idioma. Y familia. Y orgullo.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tambi\u00e9n me dio a dos hombres con cuchillos.<\/mark><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Cartoon<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Iba caminando a casa.
Ni borracho. Ni presumiendo. Ni tonto.
Nom\u00e1s suave.
Nom\u00e1s yo.
Mochila puesta, coraz\u00f3n abierto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Y entonces vinieron las manos.
Una a la cara. Otra al costado.
Sin palabras. Sin motivo. Sin opci\u00f3n.
Solo miedo.
Y dolor.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Cartoon<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Me apu\u00f1alaron en el pecho, me quitaron mis cosas y me dejaron solo, desangr\u00e1ndome en la calle.<\/strong> \ud83d\udd2a\ud83e\ude78<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Semanas despu\u00e9s,
Quise ir a buscarlos.
Quise hacerlos sufrir, no solamente con versos, f\u00edsicamente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pero no lo hice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

En lugar de eso, los escrib\u00ed en un poema que nunca van a leer.
Y aqu\u00ed est\u00e1\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n

poema para los dos que me partieron sin matarme<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

((poem for the two who broke me without killing me)<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

me atacaron sin aviso, sin pena, sin ley,
(they attacked without warning, without shame, without law<\/em>)<\/mark>
como sombras del miedo que nunca enfrent\u00e9.
(like shadows of fear I\u2019d never faced before<\/em>)<\/mark>
con un pu\u00f1o callaron mi risa, mi fe,
(with a fist they silenced my laugh, my faith<\/em>)<\/mark>
y con filo grabaron que d\u00e9bil no fue.
(and with a blade they carved that I was never weak<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n\n\n\n

quise maldecirlos, buscarlos, vengarme,
(I wanted to curse them, hunt them, get revenge<\/em>)<\/mark>
con rabia en la sangre, sin nadie que alarme.
(with rage in my blood, no one to warn<\/em>)<\/mark>
quise matarlos, as\u00ed, con mis manos,
(I wanted to kill them, right there, with my hands<\/em>)<\/mark>
como bestia herida cruzando los llanos.
(like a wounded beast crossing the plains<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n\n\n\n

pero no.
(but I didn\u2019t<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dios me habl\u00f3 en el silencio total,
(God spoke to me in total silence<\/em>)<\/mark>
y me dijo que odiar no es final.
(and told me hate is never the ending<\/em>)<\/mark>
aprend\u00ed a sanar, a golpear si me toca,
(I learned to heal, to hit if I must<\/em>)<\/mark>
a mirar mi reflejo sin miedo en la boca.
(to see my reflection without fear in my mouth<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n\n\n\n

ahora entreno. respiro. perdono.
(now I train. I breathe. I forgive<\/em>)<\/mark>
y mi alma no carga lo que no le abono.
(and my soul doesn\u2019t carry what I didn\u2019t plant<\/em>)<\/mark>
porque el perd\u00f3n no es rendirse, es poder,
(because forgiveness isn\u2019t surrender, it\u2019s strength<\/em>)<\/mark>
es pararse de nuevo y volver a creer.
(it\u2019s standing up again and learning to believe<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n\n\n\n

as\u00ed que esc\u00fachenme bien, fantasmas del ayer:
(so hear me clearly, ghosts of yesterday<\/em>)<\/mark>
no me mataron. me hicieron renacer.
(you didn\u2019t kill me. you made me reborn<\/em>)<\/mark><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Eso pasa cuando intentas romper a alguien\nque ya fue roto\u2026 pero bonito.<\/mark><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ya no estoy enojado.<\/mark>
No porque lo haya olvidado.
Porque me hice m\u00e1s fuerte<\/strong>.
F\u00edsicamente, s\u00ed, ahora estoy mamado.
Podr\u00eda cargar a esos dos pendejos mientras recito a Shakespeare y a\u00fan me sobra aire pa\u2019 rezar un Padre Nuestro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00bfPero el verdadero poder?<\/em>
Vino de caminar entre ese dolor sin arrastrarlo como medalla.
Vino de decidir no pudrirme en la venganza.
Vino de saber que s\u00ed, pude haberme cobrado la vida de alguien, pero mejor me dediqu\u00e9 a reconstruir la m\u00eda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Romanos 12:21.<\/mark><\/strong>
<\/strong><\/mark>\u201cNo te dejes vencer por el mal; al contrario, vence el mal con el bien.\u201d<\/mark><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

As\u00ed que no, no me desquit\u00e9.
Me puse po\u00e9tico.
Me puse fuerte.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Me liber\u00e9.<\/mark><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00bfY si alg\u00fan d\u00eda los vuelvo a ver?<\/strong>
No voy a correr.
No me voy a romper.
Los voy a mirar con el peso de todo lo que he reconstruido.
Not to threaten. Not to hurt them.
Nom\u00e1s para mostrarles que sigo aqu\u00ed\u2026
respirando, brillante, sin miedo.<\/mark><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\ud83c\udf52<\/strong>\ud83c\udfb0\ud83e\uddc3\ud83c\udf08\ud83e\udee6\ud83c\udfb2\ud83e\udee6\ud83c\udf08\ud83e\uddc3\ud83c\udfb0\ud83c\udf52<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n
Sobreviv\u00ed, lo rim\u00e9, sigo suave, sigo mamado. Una propina por el trauma y<\/em> el flow.<\/h5>\n\n\n\n
\ud83d\udc47<\/h5>\n\n\n\n
\"Da<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\ud83c\udf52<\/strong>\ud83c\udfb0\ud83e\uddc3\ud83c\udf08\ud83e\udee6\ud83c\udfb2\ud83e\udee6\ud83c\udf08\ud83e\uddc3\ud83c\udfb0\ud83c\udf52<\/strong><\/h5>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Despu\u00e9s de ser apu\u00f1alado por dos hombres en la Ciudad de M\u00e9xico, eleg\u00ed el perd\u00f3n, la fuerza y la poes\u00eda\u2026 no la venganza. Esta es mi historia, cruda y biling\u00fce.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9068,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"gabro-unfiltered","meta":{"pmpro_default_level":"","sync_status":"","episode_type":"","audio_file":"","podmotor_file_id":"","podmotor_episode_id":"","castos_file_data":"","cover_image":"","cover_image_id":"","duration":"","filesize":"","filesize_raw":"","date_recorded":"","explicit":"","block":"","itunes_episode_number":"","itunes_title":"","itunes_season_number":"","itunes_episode_type":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[504,382,503,505,291,500,501],"storyboard_category":[916],"class_list":["post-4114","storyboards","type-storyboards","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","tag-bilingual-poem","tag-emotional-healing","tag-forgiveness","tag-poetic-justice","tag-soft-masculinity","tag-stabbed","tag-trauma-survival","storyboard_category-poetry-panic","pmpro-has-access"],"yoast_head":"\nTwo Against One (And I Still Walked Away Stronger) | gabroverse<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"After being stabbed by two men in Mexico City, I chose forgiveness, strength, and poetry... not revenge. 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