juneau-reyes - Hello Poetry

We are flowers blooming in 8-bit. Each pixel concentrated on exploding into light and color-- so small that no one sees, even if they're looking for it. They tell us to close our eyes. It is not our spectacle to behold. We close like clams and open up pearl-less just to let the water rush in. We choke on the salt and hope we swallow our sins. They teach us to write backwards so that no one knows our secrets. We ache for the night but we do not know why. The sun shrinks back when we bloom because it is terrified of the beauty of becoming. They tell us being takes brains. We say courage.

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 1:22 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

Light and Color

We are flowers blooming in 8-bit. Each pixel concentrated on exploding into light and color-- so small that no one sees, even if they're looking for it. They tell us to close our eyes. It is not our spectacle to behold. We close like clams and open up pearl-less just to let the water rush in. We choke on the salt and hope we swallow our sins. They teach us to write backwards so that no one knows our secrets. We ache for the night but we do not know why. The sun shrinks back when we bloom because it is terrified of the beauty of becoming. They tell us being takes brains. We say courage.

21

I AM BOTH PARTS SUN AND MOON I CHANGE THE TIDE, I CARVE OUT GROOVES IN THE EARTH, I MAKE PLANTS MOVE IN THE DIRT, I CHANGE WAVES INTO WORMS-- I BIRTH AND I DESERT DESTROY AND CONVERT-- I AM BOTH PARTS SUN AND MOON I CHOOSE

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

"A BALANCE"

I AM BOTH PARTS SUN AND MOON I CHANGE THE TIDE, I CARVE OUT GROOVES IN THE EARTH, I MAKE PLANTS MOVE IN THE DIRT, I CHANGE WAVES INTO WORMS-- I BIRTH AND I DESERT DESTROY AND CONVERT-- I AM BOTH PARTS SUN AND MOON I CHOOSE

13

One more flower, one more fish there is a pattern in all of this yellow eyes, eyes that do not fit sipping on pink thoughts of forgiveness and charm there is no harm in clouds and slipping on words to let them out, white noise in the back. Blue that turns to black in the corners of your eyes time that does not know green or the hues in-between showing off parts that are (sometimes) better left unseen-- one more fish. There is a pattern in the dark of madness there is a flower that cries with a few sets of different eyes, maybe not now or here but all in due time all in due time all in due time tears do not fall when they swim in a lovemix of alcohol Blackfish; still loved black.

0

Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

I Already Hurt I Don't Care

One more flower, one more fish there is a pattern in all of this yellow eyes, eyes that do not fit sipping on pink thoughts of forgiveness and charm there is no harm in clouds and slipping on words to let them out, white noise in the back. Blue that turns to black in the corners of your eyes time that does not know green or the hues in-between showing off parts that are (sometimes) better left unseen-- one more fish. There is a pattern in the dark of madness there is a flower that cries with a few sets of different eyes, maybe not now or here but all in due time all in due time all in due time tears do not fall when they swim in a lovemix of alcohol Blackfish; still loved black.

31

Death stands on the overpass with you reaching for your hand. It tells you, Now is not the time. Here is not the place.

0

Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 12:53 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

Death, II

Death stands on the overpass with you reaching for your hand. It tells you, Now is not the time. Here is not the place.

5

Death is a temptation-- it is the midnight train calling through the window screen quietly, then all at once, promising a journey but guaranteeing no definite end, its echoes a mere whisper giving you a second chance until the next night when it makes its rounds again.

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

Death, I

Death is a temptation-- it is the midnight train calling through the window screen quietly, then all at once, promising a journey but guaranteeing no definite end, its echoes a mere whisper giving you a second chance until the next night when it makes its rounds again.

10

We are only eyes, watching. Juxtapose my heart and my soul-- I've never felt so open or exposed-- Spill my guts on the table for people to **** and certain, gentle hands to hold. I am forever unfolding under everyone's nose. My heart's on a highway and when it reaches top speed it beats through my rib cage and knocks me off my own feet-- At night the streetlights illuminate everything I like to keep unseen. My soul is a thousand years old. My soul was just born. My soul's a freezing tundra, my soul is lukewarm. It sits in the pit of my stomach and is as still as a storm. We are only eyes, watching, waiting to see if my heart will lean out of my ribs just to beat or if my soul will reach out of my body to leave.

0

Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC

juneau-reyes

To Become

We are only eyes, watching. Juxtapose my heart and my soul-- I've never felt so open or exposed-- Spill my guts on the table for people to **** and certain, gentle hands to hold. I am forever unfolding under everyone's nose. My heart's on a highway and when it reaches top speed it beats through my rib cage and knocks me off my own feet-- At night the streetlights illuminate everything I like to keep unseen. My soul is a thousand years old. My soul was just born. My soul's a freezing tundra, my soul is lukewarm. It sits in the pit of my stomach and is as still as a storm. We are only eyes, watching, waiting to see if my heart will lean out of my ribs just to beat or if my soul will reach out of my body to leave.

28