Knicknacks
All over my place
Late cinema tickets
Dinner face to face
A figure at the window
Pair tea mugs
Under the blankets
Warm awkward hugs
The hair drier
At six am


I'm finally happy

With you,
I am.

Will

" I will never leave you"
These were your words,
before leaving me forever
I don't want to blame you
I don't want to reprimand you
It wasn't your fault that this promise was broken
Even you weren't sure of your words
It was my fault
I trusted the promise that was made with
" will"
" will", an unsure far future!
Now I have to pay the price
with a broken heart
for not knowing  the grammar!

@ Sunset

There you go carrying around your pain again
There you go like living like a ghost

I’ve always lived this life alone and hurt is all too familiar of a feeling.
And maybe this pain anchors me into his Dead Sea or maybe, I like living here.

You see, I wear this agony like it is fine art on display. Let me put my pain into a painting or maybe get it in writing.

Keep as evidence that they killed me.
Ripped me apart and claimed it was love. Tore me open and stole the soul.

Criminals I say responsible for the death of one girl.

Reflect on my poetry as a cry for help.
We both know I never had it in me to yell.

Love my poetry and love my pain.
What a shame it is that they all can relate

I wish the traveling circus were still around to run away to. It's not about being afraid to leave as much as it is needing a place to go. But my father was a mountain and my mother was a hole. And we're caves, mouths open and full of the cold. Been sitting so long myths have been made about the things that live inside us. The children come on dares to look in there. And yell in fear, at first only to have those sounds echo back. Then they laugh. There was never anything to be afraid of. Our bodies are full of that noise. Mostly the laughter. It lasts longer. It feels better. But is easier to forget because no one ever learned anything by laughing as much as being brave. You have to be scared to be brave. And moving from this place takes the strength of an earthquake sometimes. But you should know, your hands will never be big enough to hold all the rubble when the mountain crumbles. I remember when the cancer hit. The chest x rays from when they removed the portocath. Backlit, your chest resembles a busted cemetery gate from some ghost scene in a Sherlock Holmes movie. Broken. From letting all your ghosts go. And don't focus on all the things your hands can't hold. Your head fits just fine. Your hand. Cupped over your mouth to catch all your sighs. Can hold a cup of coffee to give to someone. Flowers. A poem. Tonight. Tonight you realize you're a mountain twice removed. A marble statue. So strong and so beautiful people will come a long ways just to see you.

Seized by the fear,
The justice transforms paradoxically
into perspectives.
Perspective of people
who only float
and do not question
their fragile concept of existence.
Lying to themselves,
they decided from their comfort zone
to speak of “justice” to the world; yet
as long as you don’t understand truly
the truth about your chains, you’ll keep on
defending the empire.
You will never truly understand the pain of others,
you will never be able to truly feel the justice
because you fear dying,
and also paradoxically,
although I am giving you the answer,
you also fear loving.
And without love there will never be true justice.

————

Apoderados por el miedo,
la justicia se transforma paradójicamente
en perspectivas.
Perspectiva de personas
que solo flotan y no cuestionan
su frágil concepto de existencia.
Engañándose
decidieron desde su comodidad
hablar sobre “justicia” para el mundo; pero
mientras que no comprendan verdaderamente
la verdad sobre sus cadenas, seguirán protegiendo al imperio.
Jamás entenderán el dolor de otros,
jamás podrán verdaderamente sentir la justicia
porque temen morir,
y paradójicamente también,
aún que les den la respuesta,
también temen amar,
y sin amor jamás habrá verdadera justicia.