The Voiceless Tangerine, short film

Flowers don’t talk so here I am, pretending to be a flower, bright and yellow like a dandelion.

Here I am, lonely, trying to speak, but how? I ask my self, I don’t know any deep words, I’m just hollow, hollow like my language skills.

I’m here in this desert, this desert full of people, I don’t know who I am in this land, I really don’t know, I don’t know what it feels to talk.

I’m just  in my lonely paradise, full of spanish words that no one knows, like sueños and dreams, at least I’m not the only one, no I’m not the only one.

Like a flower without a name I can’t express my self, like a Margarita, like a hydrangea. See I can’t even say your words properly, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!! I’m just a flower with out a name.

I’m a voiceless girl, so music is my language, like a tambourine, a tambourine girl. I’m Tangerina, the voiceless tangerine.

I hide secrets inside my bones, like a rock that doesn’t speak, yes it is  this is the voiceless Tangerine.