It's crazy to think that every day of life puts us closer to death. I mean it's life that kills us. Living is a slow suicide. Time is the pills we take, the calories we refuse to eat. Choosing to stay alive or choosing to die- in the end, the only thing that separates them is a handful of years and the questions we ask that never get answered.

                                                               Right?
                                                               Agnes

she wore bright pink socks with
yellow butterflies that she stole from
her little sister
that were on more of the smaller side
underneath her
Nike Prestos..

they were red..

and the color combo was bothering my eyes.

with a little tainted rain
you changed your form like
an old sacred statue and
i can’t make out your beautiful features.
or what i thought was.

maybe you were just
meant to be rained on.

maybe those conditions were what
you needed to show your
true self.

Lilah,


I remember when I was going through a really hard time last year, you were there constantly even when it felt like I wasn’t
and you didn’t mind.
You didn’t mind not understanding what was wrong but as long as you could console me to a certain extent, you were pleased.
You’d give me this face thinking that I’d crack a smile
and seeing that I wouldn’t budge, you’d put on the Lauryn Hill station on Pandora.
You’d paint these pictures that were messages that said,
“Don’t Leave Me! I Wuv U” and ”You Are My Everything, Dont Go”. I’d glance at them when you were in the process of adding more and more decorations in watercolor..
but I never let the thoughts behind it actually resonate in me.
I didn’t care about how my actions or thoughts could hurt or affect anybody,
I couldn’t eat or think straight but that’s what heartbreak does..hopefully you won’t find that out soon.
I thank you for that now though.
Supporting me with the little things that you do.

some days
my jules laughed
harder than others
and I knew she wasn't with me anymore
facing blunts more than accountability
and I watched her slip through my hands
she'd smile and it wasn't her I greeted
she became the light beam that reflects on a wall
unattainable
uncapturable
you chase it with your eyes
as it moves violently around a room
until it just dies out
and so we did

i talked to an angel
and she said i deserved this
reminded me i haven’t consulted god in ages
why was i on my knees once more..
i begged her to take me with her
her eyes glistened
non existent eyelashes batted at me as she smirked
and faded..

Faces facing forward,
Looking at recycled idols
caring not and so people soon forgot;
she had talent.
to me this was apparent.
She wasn’t like the others,
she thought out of the box because
She didn’t like what was in.

Slower, slower
Replaying her moments
The way she moved
Out of place
How those eyes darted
Back and forth
You could tell
I studied her and
fell in love with the things I didn’t know yet.
I was so sure she was aware of this
and she didn’t mind.
She played it off
Her being the wallflower type of girl
she was, and she didn’t patronize me either but in a way

she still did.

my hair absorbed the humidity like the mop that dips into the watered down Fabuloso on sunday mornings
slaps on the floor and rubs back and forth on wood
i looked at the ground after stares from the first five grown men i passed
i felt dizzy chasing after meaning
i walked until i pictured myself downtown
peering in at sweet pork spots
and bakery corner shops with the occasional
we buy gold stands and ads for tutoring nearby
feel the cobblestone of the streets beneath my feet
making it hard to walk in an aligned manner
i felt my face flush of coolness
i step to the side holding on to one of the vans
that have fake coach and yves saint laurent in the trunk
look at my hands  
skin translucent veins undeniably apparent
wipe my eye and i’m back
on the ave
on a saturday morning
strolling
formulating my escape

i’m feeling more lonely
every time i see you
it’s like the butterflies start flying around
too fast and start crashing into each other
and then they morph
back into ugly fuzzy caterpillars
all weighing down in my
stomach

this isn’t right

and we went in your moms Honda
and i called you baby the whole way and
you loved it and
we spoke some deep ish for a while about the past rather than the future
we’re both afraid for what earth has in store for us
i reassured you that i have and always will love you
and then i touched a nerve
and you didn’t want to kiss me anymore

so i kinda just watched the moon past the hill
on a boulder
and looked at the city
as a couple ants started crawling up on one of my shoelaces



we both thought about how we could’ve been kissing already.
but we’re both somewhat stubborn so none of us brought it up.

so i walked down the stupid hill
as you played with your bracelet.

i was your rations
sent from heaven to sustain you.

but you wanted more
and didn’t care for the simple things
and you chose to disregard
that i gave you life

there day by day
just enough

forgetting that all i was
was
milk and honey
and when you eventually got tired

that sweet stuff
that just enough-
the old me
was left
rotting
turning to worms




maybe it was meant to be

even when wiping away tears,

you ridicule me about how there’s bigger things for me

to cry about.

under these mauve lights
we slow dance to the song that was popular
when we were on a break.

under these mauve lights
i study every imperfection in your face,
where you let the muscles tense and relax,
the way you look up every time i smile
at you as you pretend like you don’t see me.
and i forget i’m yours already sometimes.
and i look at you and i start to crush again.
i start to get the butterflies again.
but then you gently bring me down from the clouds
when you hold me the way you do.
so close and safe.

under these mauve lights
we hang by the bar with our friends
after we get a little too hot on the dance floor.
sweaty palms and whatnot
then
under the starlight
we go out to the terrace and slow dance once again
and whisper our sweet nothings
and after a while we just hold each other
not letting anything interfere..
i think i love you..

the moon looked a little pink
didn’t it..
i lowered the window as the breeze made it
hard to focus
but it was warm and marvelous
almost like a summer fling..

and i put my right headphone back in
while Daniel Caeser
sang me to sleep..

if you’re not my partner in crime
how can i continue to fight
this illusion called life

and it’s concept of time
only trying to do what’s right
in a world
stricken with strife.

acne-riddled
bushy-browed preteen
with more hormones than head
writing in the hallways
the smell of premature couples and drama
lingered like a heavy blanket from the ceiling so she was a wallflower
writing about the broken friendship bonds that are soon to come..

i’d rather freeze over
by your grave on
icy rainy nights
than frolick in a placid world without you..



pretty little fears
music to my ears

she was a poisonous flower
among all the delicate posies
and gentle baby’s breath

unable to be felt without gloves
unable to be wafted without a mask

he knew he couldn’t have her
and so his desire grew greater

and passed away with traces of toxic passion in his lungs
and lust on his fingertips

mi novia del campo
tiene pelo rizado but she always stuffs
her curls in buns
and she layers her gold necklaces that have been passed through generaciones of abuelas
and she always ran en el campo
sin zapatos

comes home and cries on her bed
soaking her bata
her sweet coquito tears
making me drunk

oh how i want to make her happy
mi tesoro del campo..

i opened the door of the bathroom
because of all the steam that was fogging the glass.
took a towel and dried up,
curls were dripping on the hardwood floor
left to be soaked by some warm socks in an
hour or two..

parents went out
siblings went out..
what to do what to
doo..
i texted you
lathered myself in jojoba oil
and asked if you want to come over
and play for a little

and you said
k.

im enamored with
the thought of death so much that
my demons have crept

into the minds of
my past lovers and they all
have something to say..

love that all the sounds above are beautifully muted
when it seems like you're underwater,

it's almost calming..
just what I need in conditions like
these.

drowning will be
my way of finding a
total state of peace.

it’s like the scenery blurs itself out
when i see you
i underestimated your worth as i got
to know you
the crowds noise deafens
and beauty illuminates a room

i never knew you never had things figured out at this point as you thought you would
and it’s okay,
it’s more interesting-
the journey than the destination

bustling with life
and missteps to the electric slide in the center
food growing cold in trays kept on the folding tables on the side
bodies of people arising as bachata begins
and people disbanding because of their inability to sway their hips accordingly
i smirk as i pass the mirror in the stuffy catering hall

i love my loneliness.
What I don't love is when people
comment on how they feel about it.
Simple.

-

I appreciate the opportunity of my solitude
in violin.
gives me time to observe and take
note of certain behaviors that
(normal) kids my age acquire.
But it's like,
everyone's wanting to be liked to
they all dress familiar
wearing their savings
rather than saving it for something
worth while
since everything's just a fad now and most-
I can't say all act the same and
they blame it on how they were raised and the neighborhood they grew up in.
Even though I know adults who do the same.
Hopefully they'll grow out of it, like
these adults haven't.
Maybe everyone needs a little lonely
for some social cues.

oooohh i just wanna squeeeze you
and give you a bunch of kisses and the
longest hug while you tell me about your weekend

nothing more satisfying
than that
first swim
of the summer
that first lick of a
dripping icee or gelato whatever floats your goats

but that view
of that first warm sunset
reminding you that you don't got a man yet.





absolutely precious

we loop together
like ivy over broken down cars
full circle once again
we fall out
miss each other and
we sync back into
infatuation
it’s lovely
vain and
impermanent
like the planet
and us within it

man’s garden
of garbage
valueless lottery tickets and
soiled coffee cups
watered with soda and fragments of
Modelo bottle glass shards
we prop up our feet on lawn chairs
and watch it grow

and she just floated in the middle of the pool
with her clothes on,
her black Chucks and a
rolled up fatty in her right hand
and just looked at the distant stars
and wondered how much time
she had left




cuz ****..

to the very last fibers
of love
they were holding on to for dear life
fearing the
death of a coveted bond
broken
amongst their once joyous feet
inseparable
they were once described

but it seemed they now could never get
enough of it.


what keeps you holding on..

i sat on the round rug
and looked at the circle block once again
at my big age.
perplexed
i'm still trying to fit it into the square cutout
and I grow frustrated
digging into the rug
catching red stale fibers stuck underneath my nails
knowing it won't fit
but maybe it'll adjust
for me
with enough pressure
it will become malleable
when no ones watching
succumbing to my loving force
with gentle tact
it would change
maybe that was where I went wrong
and so i

you
my angel
made me drink from the fine glass
of despondency before you
peeled my lips off my face
when you walked out of my life.

in your left hand
you’d whip my tounge around
that you rooted out my mouth
like a proud trophy you were left with
in a Roman arena after a good fight.

leaving me to make unintelligible sounds only
just trying to be understood in a world
that only revels in discernment
you slaughtered my greatest gift
from both wrists down

my ability to write
you had stripped from me
my ability to speak all the perfumed words
of my soul
you had weeded out..





why do you do this to me my love..

my life.
me.
my place.
school.
pending job application.
All of it is so
overwhelming
I feel like if it all stopped-
rather if I stopped.
It wouldn't change anything.
It would make things move
smoother.
Definitely would be more cost effective
for my mother.
Just one less student to collect data from
to then be averaged into a system.
my purpose of
living is currently
aimless.
Going to high school for medical careers yet
my heart lies
between
lines.
Until I settle,
I'll keep riding my skateboard in the
same neighborhood and stay writing in the
same journal and keep loving the
same lover..

she said
i wish there was two of you
i told her to cross her eyes.

she walked around like that
the whole day

not being able to lean on
your shoulder
makes the chill of the morning
even colder.

                 we talk on the phone but when you leave, i feel more alone.

but then i remember your sweet laugh-
more like a cackle..
you’re in my head,
makes me feel like i’m in shackles.

                 while i’d rather us in bed, smiling away at our own thoughts..

we take advantage of the time we have,
even in my imagination you have my hair
in knots and
shirt with spots.

i don't
regret a
thing

i’ve grown very old since i used to be looked favorably upon
i have memories in each crevice on my face.
my wrinkles.
my happy scars

my husband would call them
he’s gone away a couple of years now and i grow lonesome at times
i don't see the beauty my husband once saw anymore

it started to fade away with the blonde to then gray hair on my head
they say its innate
along with the feeling of having youthful qualities
i used to be so ambitious and outgoing
i was one of the girly girls
not so beautiful on the outside perse but beautiful.

but now i dont do things that are ambitious
i send letters to my grandchildren in Austria
their mother always loved to travel
she was ambitious just like me
and she acted upon her ambition from the start
it made her beauty show in and out

oh treasure your youth young one
for you always are in a rush to get older
and try makeup
and wear heels
and go out with boys or girls
you are going to regret it when you get older like me.
be beautiful in your youth
be beautiful for eternity

i took a marker to the beach
to sit on the hot sand
to ponder
and scribble all the sweet nothings i’d whisper in your ears
onto seashells
and throw them back into the ocean
in hopes of being retrieved by another..

distant waves flowed to and fro
windswept sand scattered across the land

and even if time would slow
your love and mine would never grow..

i miss the best friend
i never had..

he was such a good listener.

and she
cried
and cried
and cried and cried
until her eyes
rolled
back.

the birds were perched up
congregating
atop of the Rite Aide awning
they fly in twos descending toward
the local pizza shop
with the faded awning
tearing at the seams

trying to make sense of it all..

that look that you
give me with those
soft and welcoming brown eyes.
Dark like pine.
Looking into them
yet being afraid that I'll
fall in too deep and the
only thing that could save me
would be
me.
how can I save my helpless self
when you make me so
vulnerable.
Feel as if you were an open book
my open book.
Every time you look into my eyes
It's almost
                  invasive.
Stealing a little piece of me
every time.
To then eventually
leaving nothing left
of me remaining but my
lovely bones ..

i am renewed
i have 3 blonde streaks in my hair
i wear an anklet and an initial necklace and
gold and silver rings
this is senior year me
i always have my toes painted
and a hairtie is always on a wrist
the new and improved Everly
she still writes however more vivid
pictures to be drawn in the minds of strangers
through the coming together of letters
strung together like beaded bracelets from the deli-
more refined its magnificent
she doesnt use her pseudonym anymore
its just- her.
brown noise and its so sweet
frizzy curls entangled in music notes that swim in the air
and its all chaotic serenity

i’m gonna force myself
to write something
beautiful for your eye holes
and that ****** muscle
in between your lungs that
feels
a little too much

there’s even a little fridge next to
your waffle mattress with
leftover chinese containers
soggy broccoli and carrots
swimmin freely in the sauce

remaining untouched
..
a matted rug on the floor of my cranium
that was unintentionally placed
collecting the dirt from your feet
treading over every
natural inclination to evict you
you sigh within me knowing i’m not strong enough

for i cant

you will eternally live
rent-free in my mind..

this morning
i told the flowers
what i’d do for you
and they blossomed