They call it the ****, the ******, the Cho-Cha,
the Cooch, the ****, the ***** Fly Trap, the
Yahoo, the Honey ***, the Pink Taco, the Woo-Woo,
the Foof, the Hairy Potter, the Flaming Lips,
the Sticky Bun, the Pecan Pattie, the Field of Dreams,
Too long women have hidden from it,
the big V, she who shall not be named,
Call it by what it is,
In whatever shape, form or color,
It's a ******, get over it.

I was purchased for beauty,
An orchid instead of a sunflower,
For pure and timid beauty is a natural beauty,
And I, stocked in that kitchen, let eyes linger,
I let fingers graze my petals, until alas,
I was worn out, my petals fell,
turned brown and crumbly and ugly,
so no more eyes lingered, no more fingers
grazed, no more beauty kept,
My stem fell, dried by the aimless
torture of pointless living,
Irrigated only for show, only
for maintenance of beauty, yet
my core was already rotten,
already old, already exhausted,
I was discarded without a second
glance, my petals gone,
my stem, broken and I, gone.
A last hurrah for the life
never lived.

Waves clash
in the distance,
And I feel it,
the Peaceful melancholy,
My skin dries, turns red
beneath the sun,
I squint, blink the
sand out of my eyes,
and watch the ocean
unfold into a serene
chaos, I realize I
wish to be it when
I die,
I wish to become
the sea

I am exhausted of talking about love,
I find it everywhere, constantly,
So much so that I develop hate towards it,
But I don't hate it, I envy it,
No, I envy anyone who has it, yet
I am a hypocrite,
When I feel love, panic obscures it,
I run away due to inexperience,
I flee from it due to my insecurities,
I hope it goes away because my heart beats too fast,
Days later I feel it, regret,
It forms a lump in my throat and I begin again
the cycle of hypocritical love

You scream,
I cry

You punch,
I cower

You leave,
I stay

Opposites attract
Right?
True love, they say
Beautiful, how the
Darkest of the things
Are made justifiable

I build rules in my mind,
Fasten a chain around my
heart to stop it from beating
when I see you,
I will myself to stop,
tell myself to stop thinking,
But the mere sound of your name
Se-ba-stián
breaks chains, and I stop
thinking, I break my rules,
I do it all for only a glance of you
Se-ba-stián
See how it rolls off my tongue?
So easily,
I wonder whether
your chains will break too.