I breathe you in like dry air,
exhale your memory,
so soft, so light,
it glides off my lips like last summers
I miss the way things used to be.
I have a sadness in my heart,
rotting away all traces of
what I once was,
I am erasing myself,
living beneath the shadow,
of stale promises,
and old secrets
Regret pulls me deeper under these waves
every fucking day.
Sliding under barbed wire fences,
and looking out at
I could of sworn,
I was invincible,
but I will have to find
that will never smell as good,
as your cotton t-shirts,
and faded blue jeans.
I am sorry if I hurt you,
but you will never know
how much you have hurt me
I said that she was hot
She looked at me strangely
I said "No, no, no not..."
"I have a boyfriend..."
That's right. I forgot
I stammered things about the weather,
and how it makes crops rot.
"That's what I meant by hot"
"Not that you aren't cute,
I just mean I don't like you.
I mean like like you"
"No, not true. I do like you.
I'm sorry. Bless you.
Here. Have some tissue"
I told myself to stop.
It was getting awkward
"Well, great party you got."
I sound like a bot.
The truth is I do like her.
I like like her a lot.
Can I tell you how I truly feel?
Sorry miss I would like to tell you.
That's the one thing in life I can't let you, the world know.
My eyes strain to keep my secrets,
and my body begins to tense.
Your eyes seem so bright so glossy and true blue;
your body seems so smooth that the wrinkles of life come undone.
Perfection is the example used to show what others need to do.
While someone goes to after hours on how to improve.
Taking up the time of the universe,
slowly suffocating the world of it's own oxygen,
striking down each tree with their simplicity.
Take an idea and run with it.
My eyes strain to keep my secrets;
I tell them to shush, and praise them to keep them quiet.
My body begins to tense and I squeeze it to keep it together.
Your eyes, I don't want to waste your time.
Your body should belong somewhere else.
you're the example I praise,
while I try to hang my own hat.
A vehicle rumbled along a sorry excuse for a road,
A convoy trailing behind it
A soldier looked out his window
Watching the dust swirl up in clouds beneath the
Heavy vehicle's tires
He said nothing to his partner and they rode in silence
He, thinking of his perfect baby
Whom he had not yet gotten to feel the warmth of
In his arms
And his partner, he was sure
Had nothing but the image of his fiancée racing through his mind
She was all he ever talked about
They were close
As close as a pair of friends could possibly be
But rides were becoming increasingly more solemn
Unspoken yearning for home had become almost unbearable
These days the soldier missed home so much
And longed so badly for his wife's warm embrace
That he swore he could feel his heart aching
The solemn silence was broken as something caught the soldier's eye
The convoy came to a halt
The soldier jumped from his vehicle
His boots making a hard thud on the ground below
He called to a group of Afghani children who had been
Collecting shell casings they would later exchange for food
In the middle of the convoy's path
The children looked up, alarmed
And scurried away
The rumble of the military vehicles again resounded
Through the desert
And the convoy continued on its way
At the men in the strange uniforms
With the huge trucks,
A little Afghani girl
Caught a glimpse of the sunlight
Bouncing off of something
In the middle of the road
She rushed into the street to collect it
Thinking only of how pleased
Her mother would be
With all the money they would earn
From her painstaking hunt
The soldier saw the young girl
Dart into the path of the convoy
And leapt from the vehicle
The girl looked up in terror
As she saw the big trucks
The soldier leapt into
Of the oncoming sixteen-ton vehicle
Toppling the girl to the ground
As she sat up, out of the path of the convoy
Dusting her self off and
Trying to comprehend
What had just taken place
She looked into the road searching for her
And saw it
Reflecting the desert sunlight
Just inches from the lifeless form
Of the soldier
Who had just
I am sorry that I
until it hurt to move your feet apart anything more than six inches
I am sorry that I pulled you in
only to push you away
and leave you
with a knot in your stomach the size of
I did not mean to pull your stitches out and
open a glass case full of ghosts and
left the sugar crystals stuck between your teeth I am
not who you thought I was I am
moon shine and I am
a trigger warning I am a
Don't forget about me
Allisa Rodriguez tilted her mango mojito for the ninth time.
Sitting alone at a table with both palms on the table and not making an eye contact.
The Puerto Conejo runs it's business like most casinos in Nevada, Lights were dimmed, No windows and clocks. Low cost drinks are poured down by beautiful women. Yet unlike any other high roller bars near the Mexican-American border; Management was kind enough for them to keep the reject-the-client-if-you-want policy.
Slouched and yawning from time to time and emitting mannerisms like a 12 year old girl; who wasn't taught a thing or two about a girl's proper etiquette by a mother. Portraying nothing but the air of shyness and calm; with her dreamy eyes and a much paler complexion to be hispanic. Out of the picture like those unattractive school girls that were always shunned with monoblocks during junior proms, Of skanky cheerleaders and varsity jocks will always occupy the dance floor.
Seeing her colleagues do their rounds.
Allisa could see them throwing side glances at her. Half were patronizing, half throwing that just go-home-little-girl look with a grin.
The way they plagiarize the seduction of Eve like lap dogs at those butt crotched white collars. Considering her no threat to the competition.
Still, she wasn't startled when somebody came near her table. She then fixed her gaze on a mid 50's women with a fiery red hair wearing a thick make up that weren't enough to conceal the creases on her face and unbalanced eyebags that would make you wonder if she sleeps with only one eye alternately. Her fur coat always emitting a strong scent of nicotine. It was "mother mabel" one of the the wife's owner. "Alissa sweetie this is the fifth time this week! You won't get clients at that rate" Giving a huge effort to put warmth in her hoarse voice.
I'm sorry senora said alissa apogetically, looking at the corporate pigs with a half loosened necktie and two unbuttoned sleeve laughing while pinching a girl with a huge ass. Mother mabel then put the almost empty mojito that she gave alissa on a tray. She was just leaving when she paused and turn her head around to say something. "It's a shame how an innocent angel like you ended up in here". Saying that as if recalling something while Alissa just kept her head bowed down.
Two mexicans wearing suits that strongly resembles casts from the movie godfather suddenly came. The owner of the club, Don Sancho an almost bald man with a thick gray mustache entered a panic state that had him scold the waiters and Mother Mabel
One of the mexican with a huge scar on the side of his neck was busy talking to senor juan as the other with sunglasses went to the bathroom.
Como estas Sancho? (How are you Sancho?) Asked him while trying to light a cigarette as he sat on a bar stool.
Muy bien. Gracias gracias (very good. Thank you thank you) replying anxiously
Quieres una tequilla, senor parco? (Do you want a tequilla, mr parco) Sancho didn't wait for his answer but beckoned a waiter to bring a bottle and pour it down on a glass.
I come on business again this month but of different matter
But senor, I...I..don't know why they didn't show up there are very few of my girls lately. Business has been bad give me till next week to come up with money.
Lucky for you I'm not asking you to cough up, like I said I come on a different matter. Sancho
Senor Parco looked at the girls on the table along with the many men, And whispered something to Pancho. In a few minutes about half of the club was in disarray, most girls were coming out of the bathroom. And another manager has piled them up in the next room.
Senor Parco was shoving what seem to be peanuts on one hand from a tin plate and drinking on a little glass with another.
"Now, Among the 11 of you...Only Four will be lucky...You need not work... for months after this"
A lot of coffee cans on the pantry.
Alissa was once again left in the room
Use clumsiness to put poison
Picks up by two guys blindfolds girls
Tojeros hitman need nickname
Cuantos anos tienes conchita? (How old are you? Little girl)
No sabes hablar el ingles? (Do you know how to speak english?)
To be continued...
she's sick of being made to feel
like a worthless
piece of shit
like she's not ever
good enough for anyone
or anything for that matter
of her parents
trying to take away
everything that she loves
of never being the best friend
of never helping enough
of never being worth it
of being average
even the one thing she thought she was good at
of her "best friend"
taking everything away from her
to leave her broken and crying
of the one person she trusted
backstabbing her, not letting her forget
seeing her as something she tried to hard to leave behind
she doesn't want
to cry herself to sleep
she doesn't want
to remember anything she did wrong
in those late hours before dawn
she can't put up with this
wet her quill
and in that neat handwriting
the teachers always admired
she'll write the following:
"I'm sorry for being a burden"
and as her tears
down her face
and her hand shakes
she'll fold it up
in that neat fashion
she'll carefully tuck it into
her top drawer
and she'll climb
the stairway to hell
Today I have to wonder
about people once again
some live to cause trouble
while others live to win
why is what your neighbor does
any business of your own
unless it interferes
with property that you own
I find life is hard enough
without the extra strife
of having people accusing you
wasting a lot of time
vindictive little weasels
surely you will pay
for all the trouble that you cause
Karma works that way.
we've been at the bottom
of that barrel
of which you speak
only to rise above
expectations we exceed
then all the thanks
the world gives to you
can easily be summed up
but really seeing the picture
is hard when your hung up
bent on the destruction
of characters that you don't know
just to feed some jealous need
like a hog stuck at the trough
those whom you hold close
will soon turn on you
it's just the nature of the game
the piper calls the tune
So even in my anger
I still feel sorry for you
for having to be such a shit
afraid of name being known
it's hard to be fake to someone
who was once your best friend.
ever since he got to you
and screwed up your
mind, you've changed.
you're not yourself anymore;
you've merged into him.
he suddenly becomes the
sorry, but this is all your fault.
we tried to warn you,
to help you,
but did you listen?
no, you went crawling back
to him like a lost puppy,
clinging onto your one
last string of hope.
too bad you lost some friends
on the way.
Im sorry when you asked me to say it one last time
I couldn't mutter those three words to you
They were stuck in my throat
Choked back as the tears silently rolled down my cheek
I couldn't stand to know I was really losing you
But I honestly have nothing but love for you
And i still care for you
Even though I really shouldn't
I pretend I'm angry towards you
Because its a whole lot easier
Then admitting I miss you
Deep down in my heart
I really do hope that she loves you half as much as I did
I hope she sees the scars and
Loves you even more
And I hope nothing but the best for you
I just wish I didn't have to be around to see you moved on
When I am not even close