j-juarez
American
i have this irrational fear of having my thoughts lost / so i write things here in hopes someone will hear / or remember / or even think about what my mind produces. / i don't like to be classified as a writer or poet; / i just simply want to be described as someone / who has a lot to say and presents his thoughts via / a modicum of mediums. / i think.
the sun released a photon
into my lap.
stretch. yawn. shiver.
to curl back into a
liquid-smooth pearl diver
or engage with the peril
of my own biology.
the question of the day
isn't rhetorical. it's a ripening, decaying
flesh eating virus
that itches like a plague.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 7:19 PM UTC
i can hear the bomb ticking.
it’s a nursery rhyme that I want
to put me to sleep forever. to stare,
patiently, as it preys (prays)
on (over) the weak and forgiving;
i want to it to detonate.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
change brings the most frightening
transitions of my life.
change means that one day,
I might learn to love myself.
I'll save that for another lifetime.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 5:10 PM UTC
fingertips against
a glass pane, smothered.
paint drips from the ceiling,
peeling back its exoskeleton.
it's bare, rooted in rotting wood.
let me in.
i could do it forever.
one ounce of indiscretion is tortuous,
but it is my remedy. guitar strings are strummed
in the closet and the drums
were not ready for their awakening.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
it's a christening,
a birth in reverse.
fragmented sun rays refract onto
the shards of glass created by
grandma's mason jars.
sweetened fruit is neutered
and calmly packaged for spaying.
the curtains dance with the breeze
till they're tired. i am amused.
my feet gasp for air only to have its
wish smoldered by the nighttime.
i can hear the dew hydrating outside.
is it time for sleep?
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
our holy coronation
has fallen into the inkwell.
it splatters. it is primal.
it stains as it enters
to transcribe lines of
sapphic poetry. no one
is a lover alone. what is shelter
without a body receiving the
thermodynamic tendencies of
an atom dance?
the veins are etched in our lungs.
how unstable the collisions.
how sonic. how real
!
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
between the crevices of my lips,
there is orange soda no longer carbonated, hibernating
until i wipe it off with my sleeve.
sometimes i like myself, when the caffeine dissipates
and my anxiety subsides.
are you loving yourself? are you taking care of yourself?
i didn't shave in the right places,
i didn't comb my hair this morning.
i've grown fond of my ***** roots or at
least that's what i've been told.
i touched myself this evening. i caressed every fold
and counted the lightning bolts to help me sleep.
masculinity is torturing. the bed springs attach to
my spine, embracing my face. there are no second chances
in heaven; in purgatory we have no one. cuts under my eyelid
tell me i'm ageing, but this is what happens
at the edge of history.
i can no longer pretend or hide. the newports grapple
my esophagus and i have been pinned.
why this and not that?
tomorrow is our spring awakening, and whether i'm up or down
or left or right - my sense of direction is permanently broken.
tonight.
i know one thing is certain. there is no love, no harmony.
i touch myself.
for a chance at true intimacy.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
i am my own fiona apple record;
choking on my exoskeleton and
bleeding into the lake. it makes pretty
whips with red and blue interlaced more loosely
than my emotional stability, and the religious faith
that succumbs to the chrome pattern cracks on my wall.
it's after midnight and i can smell the cotton clogging my
esophageal lining, secreting on my taste buds. my retinas are wired at
the lead in the corner while centipedes crawl beneath the muscles
of my kneecaps. it's only two a.m. i pretend i am a neon zebra,
reflecting light onto all my insecurities because the coffee mug
never felt so cold against my shoulder. i wonder if i am
insane. Morning time. Sunrise.
The ray of Light refracts onto the window, bolstering the
cotton breathing within me like a parasite.
i am an enemy of my Being.
But tonight passes.
Seldom passes.
Today, I am
SanE.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 3:11 AM UTC
my heart is a gasoline guzzler
running on the fumes of burned out
memories, thoughts, and breaths.
my veins play jump rope with my bursting capillaries
and beneath the seam of every heartbeat
is an arrhythmia that smiles back.
no longer is every intake an oxygen a dutiful task.
rather i, as a sovereign animal
convert the anguish into carbon dioxide
because i don't care for the proton pumps
or the electron chains. i am negatively charged
and hidden inside this bubble is a dark cycle
beseeching for the spotlight.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
our bodies are melting jellyfish,
stinging beneath the ocean's surface
for a chance at reincarnation.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:48 AM UTC