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Does it matter to you that sometimes I tremble when you touch me
Not out of love but fear?
Fear that maybe you have the power
To turn into him
The power to become who and
What I fear the most
Power to make me feel sick
Make me feel weak
Make me feel empty
Make me feel wrong.  
I love the way you touch me
But maybe I'm not always there
Maybe it's wrong
Maybe it's *****
Maybe I'm *****
Maybe I'm broken
You see cuz he broke me
He hurt me
He bit me
Right in the soul
A giant chunk of me that will
Never grow back.
Does it matter to you that I'm
Never coming back?
Does it matter to you that I feel
Broken like that?
Does it matter?
If only we were
Dogs, unconditionally
Loving without thought.

The world would form a
Bond, that would be unable
to perish or break.
darling,
       you're beautiful.
                      but not in the way most
                             people see
                      in the way your eyes blend
                             from brown to green
                and the way your freckles scatter
                             along your face
             and how more beautiful can you be
                      when your eyes light up
                                your smile appears
                                        & laughter springs
                                            out of your chest
                                   what a beauty you are
                             special, like the stars
In moments of dark
Hope kisses my cheek to say
"It will be okay"
 Jun 2017 Guadalupe Meza
N
I fell inlove not knowing,
that our love would be like this
we fly with broken wings
and we always miss

I thought we could be together,
For a very very long time
but now how can we make it forever
when there's everything but time

I trusted you, and loved you
Do you love me as I do,
or has it changed into blue?
This is the letter from me to you
 Jun 2017 Guadalupe Meza
Cinzia
Quick! Call the poetic constabulary
I'm mincing words about my vocabulary
Help! I'm drowning in my thesaurus
evidence that i'm merely a brontosaurus

Listen up to my Greek chorus:
"Such silly word play should place her in poem prison
a ponderous place from which few have risen
Locked in the cell, losing her sense
consequence of writing with no poetic license"

Writing on with no reason or rhyme
just doing my poetic time
iambic meters bite me in the ****
trying to force me out of my sonnetic rut

stumbling on ideas most trite
all the pitfalls of making the choice to write
just having some fun
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