Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
skyler molina Nov 2015
January- Her toes were chilly just like the trees in her front yard. She had never known what happiness was & she still hadn't found the answers (especially not in me), yet the love for the similarities of december compared to this beautful month was similar into the way that she loved food but hated to eat; she loved the way her glasses looked on her, & how perfect the dimples on her face felt in the sunlight, & every song that I ever wrote for her, & the way I make long lists about all the ways she was beautiful to me.
She loved all of these things, but never me.

February- the clouds always looked over her like a big brother & always told me when she was in need of one of my helpful conversations consisting of me expressing all the reasons why she is so important to this world & that nobody would be who they are today if it wasn't for her birth & her substantial impact on people's outlook on life. She hated the way everyone would fall for her like leaves in september & she would always feel bad for b(rake)ing leaves & hearts that weren't hers to b(rake) in the first place. She was most magnificent when she was upset, the passion, the sadness, the fear, it was all just beauty in its purest form.

March- This was her favorite month, because it was so spontaneous and unexpected just like her;
one day it's raining
& the next day a cloudless day where we're sunbathing in my living room,
& even the next day is a harsh winter with a spice of sun added to the whole recipe.
One day she was dressed up & happy,
the next day she could be dressed down & apathetic towards life (& especially me),
& even the next day she did her make-up but not her hair & she actually manages to put socks on but they aren't matching (& she hates not matching, maybe that's why I never match my socks anymore) & her mood has a hint of attitude with a spice of sarcasm, & I love every single second of it. Becasue life is like the month of march, you never know whether she's going to love you or not.

April- This isn't a good month for her, she's behind in all of her classes because of her job & life at home & she's scared of everything. It's sunny & windy half of the time, & rainy the rest of the time. She hates the rain because it ruins her hair & reminds her of why her mom isn't in her life anymore & the fact that she'll never forgive her dad for that. On the extra rainy days she didn't go to school & on the sunniest days she sat inside catching up on all of her missing school work. To her, april was like the world we live in, absolutely horrific.

May- the color was riveting; the skies were as glossy as her eyes after a short nap, & she had just finished reading her new favorite book. Love was short tempered this time of year, but at this point i'm used to it. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time though, because lasting love never lasts & everyone knows that. She has just told me that she is slowly falling for me, & this is unusual to me because i'm usually the leaf that is falling to my inescapable death, not the other way around. But the way the goosebumps on her arm looked & the way her lip quivered was so unbelievably beautiful as she was telling me that she's loved my childish humor & stupid stories for quite some time now, but has finally decided to let herself love me instead of drenching her affection for me in sarcasm & rudeness. I am finally loved & i'm not sure if I can stand up without thinking about her kissing me & how am I supposed to go to sleep when I could be holding her instead. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time.

June- Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Not because of the sun either, but because her body against mine was a sauna & the way we looked at eachother put a shame to the way the sun looks at the moon. We were explorers of the human body & our first trial had taken place with eachother. We have never been outside of our city so we decided that we would travel the world together, through each other's stories, body movements & wandering souls. I had seen pictures before of the great ranges & valleys that are so beautiful, it's a shame that all they'll ever be are just valleys; but nobody prepared me for her smile,
& the way she laughs when I pick her up & spin her around in public places,
& that strapless dress that she loves to wear,
& especially the way she tells me that i'm perfect & actually means it.
Nobody prepared me to actually want to keep on living.

July- the heat was at an all-time high whether it had been between our agruments, or the sun cooking down on us like eggs on a sidewalk. Maybe the temperature had something to do with her mood swings or maybe it was just her realizing that I wasn't as perfect as she thought I was. I can't tell you I didn't expect this though, no one in my life had ever stayed longer than a few years, whether it was because of my overly direct opinions, or my waves of jealousy, or my (meaningless) indirect insults; whatever the case was I didn't expect much from anyone nowadays, & the strangely beautiful thing about it was, neither did she.

August- I can't really say very much about what happened this month except her hair blowing in the wind is more heartwarming than any cup of hot cocoa & the way she broke my heart with just her eyes will forever haunt my cloudless dreams.

September- Just like the month of september, she finally settled into a pair of warm, comforting arms; but those arms were definitely not attached to my body & the month of september definitely wasn't sad just to accompany my mood, it was sad at the fact that the world is slowly falling in love february & losing interest in all summer related festivities; this is how I felt, she was slowly falling in love with the rainforest & I am just a single tree.

October- She would still call me every now & then, but only when her & her new boy toy were having relationship problems or when she had a bit too much to drink.
"I made a mistake." "I love you." "I want you back." "I miss you so much."; the sentences evacuated her mouth like water falling from a cliff & could have easily exterminated every cell in my body had I not hung up before I could hear the end of it.
I loved her & I wanted her more than I wanted to see the sky each morning, but I knew she didn't mean anything that she was saying in those insignificant, yet crucial moments; I knew she didn't love me, she loved the idea of never having to be alone.
I was pretty sure october was coming to an end soon, but honestly, I didn't even keep track of the days anymore, I didn't keep track of anything anymore.

November- winter is just around the corner & I haven't  heard from her in a week of two.
I think she's happy now.
I hope she's happy now.
Even if i'm not, I hope she is.

December- I realized that no matter how cold the weather gets, her heart will always be much more colder, sinking to temperatures a small child would have nightmares about.
I finally have come to terms with the fact that she isn't coming back;
just like the leaves,
just like the sun,
just like time,
she's gone.
skyler molina Feb 2015
She always loved her phone more than my eyes, & the cashier's flirtatious remarks made her feel more loved than my poems ever could.
"It's not enough to simply be loved by someone these days" I would always try to spit out to her, but involuntarily never having the courage to.
I never thought someone could lose interest so quickly for someone that they loved, but nowadays we're only taught that looks are the only important thing to worry about & if someone actually has depth to them, you'll just end up drowning.
I'm sorry I never taught you how to swim.
I'm sorry I peer pressured you into jumping in too soon.
Once the fatigue of drowning fades away, all you are left with is the uncontrollable urge to stay dry.
Never again did she look me in the eyes.
Not once did she ever wonder why I loved her so badly; maybe she thought it was because of her good looks.
Her fingers always cringed at the thought of me & for that I have never come up from the depth of her ocean, that I have so forcefully made myself forget how to swim in.
skyler molina Jan 2015
Has the nighttime ruined you yet?
Has your blood went bad from the lack of ice that their heart used to provide for you?
Have you come to realize "what could have been"?
Have you found what you've been chasing?
Do you think you ever will?
Do you think you actually want to?
Have you gotten everything off of your chest yet?
Do you think you've been holding back out of your own fear of failure?
Have you died during their stories & suffocated in their moments of clarity yet?
Has the daytime ruined you yet?
How many times have you told them that you are in love with them?
How many times have you wanted to tell them?
How many times have you wished you were still in love with them?
How many times have you wished that they were still in love with you?
How many times has the image of them arrived in your mind while reading this?
(Why didn't you write this?)
Where were you the first time you realized that you were meant to sink only into their ocean of a bloodstream?
Has life ruined you yet?
How many times have you wished they would have stayed?
How many times have you cried over someone that has only known what dry eyes feel like?
Are you scared?
Are you okay with knowing that you are not okay?
Would you do it all over again?
Could you do it all over again?
Has love ruined you yet?
skyler molina Oct 2014
She danced circles around me,
with that keen smile that
she only
seemed to have
when we were
saying
goodbye.
I was once told to only write
whenever
I was feeling inspired,
& ever since her
presence has faded
& there are no more
clichés left in this world to
write about,
i've found myself
running;
whether it's from
the road
or
the sun
or
the memories;
I just can't bring myself
to make the
tires stop rolling
& my feet stop
aching.
I can feel the fear
sweating out
of my
pores
& the regret
screaming for me
to stop
screaming
so loudly.
It took me weeks to figure
out exactly
why I couldn't feel
my arms every morning
while waking up
& I think it's because
they never truly
let go of
her body.
If my arms can't
have their
sanity
back,
then I would at least
appreciate mine
again.
It's hard to
write a poem when
you forgot
all of your pens
back at home.
It's hard
to
call anything a
home anymore
without being reminded
that mine had
two
legs
&
a
heartbeat
that were always
one step,
one beat,
one heartbreak,
ahead of me.
& for everyone
that has
said "you can't make homes
out of human beings" has
obviously
never found the
kind of
comforting
warmth that
only a fireplace
& her smile can
create; except
fire could
never put me
in the hospital as
quickly
& her
glance
was enough
to get fire trucks
racing to
the scene.
I realize why
the term
"love" is used
so lightly nowadays;
it's because no
one that has
truly experienced it
has ever lived
to
tell the tale.
skyler molina Oct 2014
July 8th - Where am I? What is this place? Why do I remember everything & nothing all at the exact same time?

July 14th - This is a place where the dying go to; I don't understand.

July 24th - I feel this sort of pain, but it's nothing I can't handle.

August 1st - I miss my pillow the most.

August 17th - I don't know how I ended up in here. I don't know how I ended up like this.

August 20th - I was created to please, yet lived to only disappoint.

August 21st - I'm so cold. They don't have blankets in this room. Just walls.

August 22nd - Why hasn't anyone came to visit me? Why doesn't anyone care?

August 24th - I can't breathe. These walls turned into a face mask & I can feel myself slowly disintegrating.

August 28th - A cookie may be able to crumble, but I could crumble oh so much faster; & crumble I shall.

September 1st - A window appeared. But it's always raining outside of it.

September 4th - I forgot how to speak. The rain is much louder than my voice, & i'm starting to realize that's how it's always been.

September 5th - I don't remember the feeling of dry eyes. I can't tell if the moistness is actually tears or if i've just been standing by this window a little too long.

September 15th - I like to pretend that this feeling is normal.

September 16th - Everyone won't stop asking me questions about when i'm going to get released & seem to never stop wondering what's "actually wrong with me".

September 17th - Maybe I can just act like everyone else are the ones with the problems.

September 21st - I need to be alone, yet I haven't even seen anyone in what seems to be months.

September 28th - I don't know how long i've been in here, but i'm starting to feel at home.

October 2nd - I finally met my doctor. He seems like a nice man. Hopefully he can take this feeling away, whatever it is.

October 3rd - I haven't opened my eyes all day; i'm too scared to see that you're still not there.

October 5th - The doctor keeps telling me that there are no visible sign of anything being wrong, he says i'm free to go.

October 5th - I don't want to go.
skyler molina Aug 2014
my favorite poem was always her silence,
even after god stopped screaming & the cries from the tires screeching only occupied the ears of the young & the dead,
lovely to know that no matter what happens in this life, life will never give back,
as always i'm feeling stuck inbetween her mind & her heart, but never her thighs (& that was okay),
neither of us had loved each other to our full potential,
i was terrified, & for some oddly beautiful reason nothing could even make her flinch,
eventually the ocean will go bad, just like our hearts.

life doesn't owe you anything, it has no debt to you or your cold soul,
you have to believe my words when I tell you that I only feel sadness everytime I realize that her name has now just become an acronym & everything she once said to me was now drowning somewhere, in some ocean, screaming out someone else's name to help save her,
no, don't believe me,
no, don't believe anything I ever say (she never did).

reducing my bank account to the day of the month that she strangled my heart with her two bare hands, that way everytime I look at my bank funds I can feel the same type of struggle that my heart felt that very night,
evolution did her good, just like all the other boys between her thighs nowadays,
you only live once is the biggest lie to ever enter my ear drums; i've looked into her eyes & have spoken with demons that died thousands of years ago that still reside inside my sweet angel,
now my phone is crying for her call & the same goes for me,
only time can mend a deceased heart,
live alone & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest, yet live for someone else & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest,
doubtfully kiss my lips & you will finally, fully understand that she didn't take only my heart with her that night,
sporadically trying to find out if I could at least have my hands back; they might be a little burnt from all of the times I reached for her heart, but I miss the sting when trying to close my fists & the burn of her lips on them as she puckered up to the open wounds that she didn't even know she had created.
skyler molina Jul 2014
Each day gets brighter, while my eyelids slowly glide to the ground.
Summer is here but all I see are gray skies & snowy roads.
The world is calling my name but you can't hear the screams from where my heart is located.
I gasp for air every couple of seconds, but god's disguised hands keep pushing me back underwater.
The further I run away, the closer I get.
All of the lights go out right as I arrive to the last chapter.
I am burning down as my house just stands there & watches.
The one thing that would actually pour water on me to put the fire out was the one thing that had no access to it.
I get told "congratulations" & all I hear is "stop smiling".
Love turns to dust & death turns to sunflowers
(Sunflowers were her favorite).
Holidays do not exist anymore.
Days do not exist anymore.
Time stands still, as my thoughts run in place.
Forbidden memories have come outside to play.
Only pens that have runout of ink can truly express my thoughts.
Life as we all know it is pulling back the curtains, & taking its final bow.

ps - the sun only seems to shine on the days that I have no willpower to bring my eyes to the surface; & the scent of her palms was the only thing worth noticing
Next page