Cuando lloro, es en silencio
Si mi mundo se esta destruyendo, lo apago
Pero el cariño, Jamas se demuestra.
Me dijo Mi mama “porque lloras si nadien se murio”
Lo que no sabe es que la mitad de mi se apago y ya esta enterada en un sepultorio.
Jamas muestres tus sentimentos verdaderos, La gente se aprovechara de ti.
No seas vulenrable me dijeron mis padres mexicanos.
Category: 10th
Skin Deep
“Beauty is skin deep”
is what we’ve been told;
and it will be said to our children once we grow old.
But as humans we crave the acceptance from others,
regardless of what we’ve been told by our mothers.
It doesn’t matter if loved ones say our faces look better bare
because we only feel good if strangers stop and stare.
Dreams of City Streets
Standing on the corner
By the lamppost
Mismatched socks and cuffed jeans
Her hair wet from the rain
Her coat, worn and tattered
She stood smiling
As she walked
She swayed
To music only she could hear
The dusk sun mixed with the shower
To produce a glow
To match the golden energy
That radiated from her
Only she could look so bedraggled
And yet so delicate
Like she was dancing on air
As she floated up into the sky
With such a slow
Simple
Splendor
The light turned green
And off we were
In different directions
Into different worlds
To lead different lives
But from time to time
I think of her
The stranger on the sidewalk
Imagining her voice
Breathy like laughter
And what would have been different
If I had said hello
Perfectly Meaningless
I am alive
I am here in this moment living one of the billions of lives in this world.
Looking into the stars; as they stare back they wink at me as if they know something I don’t.
The feeling of this glacial breeze and tender
grass can never be perfectly replicated ever again.
The sky so dark but somehow flawlessly lit.
I bathe in this moment, a moment that is far too little to become a memory.
And I realize how perfectly meaningless it all is.
I reach for the sky as if it’s going to take my
hand.
I feel infinite.
Nothing could spoil this perfectly meaningless moment.
My head so utterly empty, my eyes just observing all the awful beauty of this world.
Here I am so alive, but my body lays lifeless.
I feel myself ascend into the stars, and I glimpse upon myself for what I truly am.
A body that means everything to someone, and utterly nothing to another.
There I am.
So flawed, so perfect, so meaningless.
Yours
The claim I once dreamed of fell into my lap
That light cold glimpse of hope was placed on the tip of my tongue
The deep low clench that grabbed and tugged my heart has settled
That big light hazel colored fluttering butterfly has decided to stay
The words that I silently tucked behind my ears have been said
That tall glass of rusted tears has been poured down the drain
The thick layer of my skin that hid the real me was washed away in the shower this morning
I’m yours
Rot
As I bore into the ashen type soil;
And my limbs grow ever so cold and numb;
I cannot stop my never ending toil;
My ears now deafened by the heartbeat drum.
I cannot tell if this may be my curse;
Has my luck now run dry from the river;
Or maybe something I fear is much worse;
One that shakes my bones and makes me quiver.
My eyes rot and my fingers start to peel;
The drum keeps getting louder and louder;
I can feel Death as he nips at my heel;
The dirt I tear at turning to powder.
I beg, please send me quickly to my grave;
I cannot pretend that I am that brave.
Abbadon[ation]
I am drawn to the eyes of the all Mighty
Those pale blue exuberant eyes, getting lost
In every stroke I take in the deep vast ocean they create
Every notion ever felt, ever taken action on, crashes down before me
The walls and barriers that have been built, fall down around me
They sink in the waves of his gaze
The bright white light of his palace, so inviting and homely,
Beauty, grace, and youth overcome me, all things new are
There to reassure, this is the place I want to be.
One step, and the marble cracks, creating a fissure in
The hope I always saw to be there, another step
And I begin to fall, like a comet crashing down to earth.
Past the crust and deep down through the layers, into the hellfire.
I am greeted by shackles binding me to the ground,
Immense heat radiating off of my body, no escape.
No way to flee the constant torture of the claws,
Dragging me deeper into the heat of the flames.
Raindrops
Pitter, pitter patter
Sounding like innate chatter
Drip, drip drop
Why do they all have to talk
Some are quieter than others
But they still talk just as much to their brothers
Some are invisible
Others are more bold
Quick as a splash
Or slow as the lazy river
They all act the same with their
Pitter, pitter patter
Sounding like innate chatter
And their
Drip, drip drop
Why, I ask
Why do they all have to talk
Sky Myths
Stars have their myths
But do clouds have those gifts
If stars are our ancestors
Does that make raindrops their tears
What if the stars are the gods
Does that make thunderstorms their angry wrath
What about stars being lost souls
Does that make clouds their protectors
We know about stars and clouds
Therefore we know none of that is true
But you have to wonder…
If stars have their myths
Why don’t clouds have those gifts?
My Body
My brain is a mill
Full of words to till
My head is a farm
Harvesting thoughts tangled like yarn
My chest is the grass
Unyielding under a great big mass
My arms are the soil
Delicate and easy to foil
My stomach is an ecosystem
All the parts working in a delicate unison
My legs are the earth
They are the base of my living hearth