To you,
How much city
Do you need,
How much hunger
Will suffice,
You have feet
That will walk,
You have hands
That will do,
A voice that echoes
Through the shining lights,
And ears that could listen
To the beat of the stars
That shine above
The sky scrapers,
The city will bring
Spring and summer,
So dress in color
Since today the wind
Was born among
The rain that puddles
The streets.
laugh, crying will
Bring so much cold,
More cold than forgetting
To live.
And I will laugh with you,
Parked outside a diner
On a rainy day.
It doesn’t seem that cold
Today my friend,
The roots of the trees
With fallen leaves
Are healthy,
Waiting to flourish again.
Oh, how much city we have,
So much thirst.

The waves calm
As they can be,

The silhouette
Of a woman

Reflecting
Celestial beings

Upon her skin,
Matching the tides

With the wet sand,
Covering foot prints

That got bigger
and bigger

The more
I circled around,

Now I float
Towards the horizon,

Feeling better than I
Did yesterday,

Watching the stars
Fall out of the sky

In the evenings
Of a month

I’ve learned to
Stop counting,

I would drink
If I had a drink,

I would smoke
If I had a smoke,

I would love,
If I had someone
to love.

And slip through
The crevices,

Through corals
And tropical fish,

The light feels
Warmer down her,

Maybe,
    I am okay
           After all.

Are you happy Sisyphus?
Do you ever think
Of the end?
Do you miss the ones
You loved,
And the ones
That loved you?
Do you wonder,
Of the flowers that
Grow to your right
Or maybe your left?
Is it truly fulfilling
To push and push
Just to start all
Over again when you get
That little feeling in your chest?
butterflies of content,
False hope that always
Let’s you down,
Not slowly, or with care.
But abrupt and so full
Of disappointment.
I’d dare think of you
As a happy man,
Camus thought that
The struggle itself
Was enough to fill
A man’s heart,
But I stand here
Holding unto my
Door frame
As the wind howls
And tangoes across
The empty street,
Blowing the leaves
Of a seasons past
Trying to hold unto
My feet.
How can I find happiness
In struggle Sisyphus,
Will it always be like this?
Im too curious,
Too distracted,
Too ready for the end,
Oh, I can’t wait for all
Of this to end,
Maybe then I’ll see,
That as my fingers latch
And my body flails,
There always has been
A smile on my face.

As the run away
Clouds of a named
Storm hits the city,
I sit underneath
Metal panels besides

Resting cars that
Sleep until it’s their
Turn to move again,
The water drainage
Always seems to be

Covered by leafs
Or some type of trash,
Creating a lake of
Rain water, not deep
Enough to drown

But deep enough for
It to grab onto
My ankles while
Drops disturb the
Calmness as the

Wind whistles through
The branches of tall
Trees that fill up the
Borders of the parking lot,
I light my second cigarette

As the water level rises,
And wonder and wonder
About doors and windows,
The ones that closed and
The ones that will open,

If I should climb to a second
Story given the chance,
Would I even get the option,
Happiness is around the corner,
And I remember I don’t know
How to climb,

So I’ll sit in a half full
Parking lot, and rest
For a little while longer
While I light a third
To those who have loved.

There’s many different ways
I could describe the thought of you,
How once you walk out
the night comes alive
In a whirlwind of Stars
And shady characters.

How the scent of vanilla
That you carry like
A cross upon your shoulders
Leaves a trail that I follow,
My feet tired of all the walking,

I wish you would sit down
With me for a second
A minute,
For a moment,
Share flying beliefs,
Let the night sky
Serenade you with your
Favorite songs.

I would stand
And lend you my arm,
Under a black canvas,
We’ll paint
The night starry.

It still won’t be as beautiful as you,
You are art,
In a world where it seems to be
Under appreciated.

All I wish is to have you
In my arms,
As we lay waiting
For the night to turn into day.

So I can go back to work,
And start again.

The ground has been
Trembling all day,
The sky dark
With resentment,
Holding unto
Buckets of water,
The wind screams
And throws a tantrum
In the street,
And I can’t seem
To keep the thoughts
At bay.

I’m sitting in my car
Chain smoking,
It’s raining hard,
Rivers run through
The side walk
Making it a little cleaner,
Waterfalls rush down
The roof tiles,
The sound of it
hitting the ground
As thought inducing
As the nicotine
My body keeps
Asking for.

Thoughts of Her
Paint me a pretty picture.

She loved my writing,
She read all of it,
The love I had for Her
Could be felt
Through the screen,
Through the paper,
Even Through my lips
Whenever I had the courage
To tell Her.

I could see it in Her skin,
My words marching
With bayonets and
Strikingly bright
Torches that lit up
The whole room,
My hands rightfully  
Followed,
Climbing up Her legs,
Up and down Her hips,
Moving up Her back.

In days like these
The rain would be
The least of our
Problems.

It would be how much
I wanted Her..

And how much
She wanted me.

I’m sorry
It’s inevitable,
It disappoints
And discourages,
It runs its course
Upon watered
Eyes and calluses
On the palms
Of your hands,
Despite all
Of that,
There’s dishes
To be made,
And cat litter
To be cleaned,
And people
To meet,
And storms
To prepare for,
And there will
Be someone to
Love,
Don’t let it
Get to you,
Despite.

Ay, despertador en las mañanas,
En taza de cerámica
Tan ancha como el cielo
O tal vez como la tierra,
Te creo entre temblequeo
Y la serenidad de una
Noche estrellada.

Mientras su cuerpo,
liso donde debe ser liso,
descansa sobre el mío,

y sus ojos,
usualmente café espeso,
se cierran,
cansados de días
tan aterradores,

mientras su respiración
sube y baja en mi pecho,

siento, señor,
hoy siento.

Y en este instante,
eso basta.

We got
Sunflowers at
Work today,
This is
The first
I've seen
Them on
Those brown
Metal grated
Tables, they
Reminded me
Of my mom,
They used
To be her
Favorite flower,
Every time
I call she
Sounds
Okay'ish,
She hasn't
Been on

Her medication
For years now,
It's hard to
Pin point
Her exact
Location,
I've been
Thinking
I need
Medication
Too, and
If they
Were to
Ask her
To place me
On a map,
Would she
Be able to,

Or anyone
For that
Matter,
I could
Be painting
Elk on
The walls
Of a cave ,
Or dipping
My feet
In the
Vastness
Of my
Soul,
I could
Be falling
In love
Again,
All I know
Is that
I need
To find
Myself
Soon.

Once again
I stand still
And not like
a tree,
Or a parrot
through
The eyes of
an ocelot
Or eternity,
Or prophecy,
I am but
the minuscule man.
I am Man,
Not the moon,
Celestial stone,
In love,
Amid whiteness.
Or the stars
Twilight thieves,
Sparkled fire,
Fluttering with
The wind.
I don’t
understand
What the
wind says,
So I let it talk
Among the branches,
I can hear it through
My open door,
Invasive,
Running through
My living room,
Through wood
And memories,
Bridges burned,
I close my door,
A black hole,
A deep minute
In silence,
Misery,
Like moldy bread
On the table,
Overwhelmed
With grief,
So quite,
Like loss
And agony
And ***** water.
But everything changes,
The night passes,
A second,
A minute,
A year,
And everything changes,
Rye grass starts to grow
Around my toes
And below my feet,
Life,
Tenderness,
Inevitable,
Beautiful and warm
Like laughing
Or running,
Or drinking coffee.

In an ideal future,
I’ll have a
House near a river
By the mountains
Of Puerto Rico,
My own cafe
With amazing books
And ever greater
Baked goods,
But the lines
Get blurred
When I think of you.

You,
Angel of the fortunate,
Breathtaking and majestic,
Wearing beautifully woven
Sun kissed robes
That follow you
Like your shadow does,
Only the sweet scent
Of peaches and cream
Shapes you,
Divine as a Greek sculpture,
With a smile that stuns
And gives photographic memory
To whoever has held a
Four cloverleaf before.

I’ll hold your hand,
Walk down the path
Behind what we
Would call our home,
Suddenly the silence
Start to get deafened
By the sound of rushing
Water and leafs that
While dancing with
The breeze crumble
In your admiration.

As we sit on
Moonlight showered
Mossy stones,
I’ll find out,
I can’t seem to
Remember your name.
And while  the water
doesn't touch my feet,
ill get up to keep walking
until my nervous system
gives out and the burning stops
or I find you,
Whoever you are.
To show me how cold the water can be.

The sun has come up,
Behind well watered trees

With that bright yellow
warm that it brings

I look outside my window,
From the opened blinds

That I leave for my cats to look
Out into the world

And sunbathe in pure light
While waiting for squirrels

A glimpse of peace flows
into me and out of me

I won’t remember this moment,
Insignificant as it is

It still means that I am here,
On a sunny morning

Where I don’t have to work,
Or do chores

The mountains are still
Wearing the horizon

The rivers are still
Marching down their backs

February is rolling
Around the corner

After that the wind
Will sing in March

I’m no longer sure
What’s important

All I know is that
This peace won’t last.

I found you
In my skin,
Rushing through
Like blood of a
Fresh cut that is
Bound to heal,
as the trees
Gently extend
Their hand
for the wind
That just asked
them for a dance,
I tremble among
The branches,
Ignored
Behind every
Leaf of a
Flourishing tree

Oh, my everything,
How my heart
Has been forgotten,
Waiting to be claimed
And hold you
By the waist,
Pull you close
Enough for only
The space in between
The words and the
Light of the moon
To go in between us,

But the rivers
Did not form,
It wasn’t enough rain,
And I remain,
Like a small tower
That falls apart
With time,
Devoured by the
Fauna,
Even if it falls,
I’ll still remain,
Like unending
Light,
Or cave windows
That open to
A valley of gold
Covered by
Bougainvillea
Shrubs,
With a chilling
breeze to
Keep me company.

I see myself
Tumbling down
The hill once more,
The grass scratches
My back and arms
rocks cover themselves
As I come rolling
Past them,
Hitting every last one,
I cry and plead
for forgiveness,
I ask god for time
And time again
I ask for a glimpse
Of the garden
On the other side,
I bury my nails
Into the skin of the earth
I crawl past the rain,
I crawl past the heat,
The undying days
And remorseful nights,
my heart starts to pound
As the smell of jasmines
Mists down the peak,
The ground crumbles.
And I see myself
tumbling down
To silence once again.

It’s April again.
And now
the bulbs have
Sprouted tulips

And the smell of
Hyacinths wreaks
Havoc upon the
Butterflies and
The bees that are
Coming out of hiding,

And the mountains
Are wearing color,
While the rivers
Become their shoes,
Flamboyan trees
And hibiscus ties
The laces.

The spring rain
Have baptized me
And washed the
Dirt off my face,
As my hands are
Buried deep in the
Soil of another day.

In late afternoons,
When the sky isn’t as
Forgotten by the bystanders
That walk the sidewalks
And the more fortunate
That drive the streets
God turns into a magnificent painter,
With oranges and blues and whites
On the blank canvas,
He lets you know how talented
He is with a brush,

I don’t believe in god,
I’m not a good Shepherd
Or the sheep.

But, do you see the color
Of the sky
When it’s the sun’s turn to sleep?

And do you see these hands?
They have loved and hurt,
They have cooked and baked
They have opened and closed doors,
They have demolished the distances
Of all that is land and sea.
yet,
They stop in between celestial change,
To observe an artist at work.

I’ll sit,
Unsatisfied In the well
In which I dug myself in,
With nothing but these hands
That I have done so much with
And the sky that while
Being turned into another museum piece,
signals me another night.

Vengo de Ríos
Que no explican
De donde vienen
Ni a donde irán,
Vengo de playas
Donde la arena
Vio huellas
Que rencorosas
Aguas esconden
Entre olas,
Pero allí siempre estarán,
Vengo de carreteras
Blindadas con
Árboles de Aguacates
y las guanábanas que
No caen se pudren
Entre las hojas que no
Marchitan,
Vengo del olor
Que trae el ojo
Del huracán,
Calma entre tormenta,
Una pura realidad,
Y traeré todo esto
Conmigo,
En un bulto donde
Guardo nostalgia
Y melancolía,
Tu nombre allí
También está,
Y aunque viva
En pueblo
O en ciudad,
Esa isla bendita,
Isla del encanto,
Mi borinquen,
Como huella en
Arena de una playa
Sin colonizar,
En mi corazón a
Dejado mucho que contar.

It’s 7:46 Am
On a Saturday,
I’m sitting
in my car
in front
of an urgent care
that opens
around 9:00 Am,
I can feel the left
Side of my face swelling
Up as my gums bleed
Through my teeth
Creating puddles
Of iron in the back
Of my tongue,
I connect my phone
To the radio,
And play the song
That has been stuck
On my mind
For the past few months,
That and the Tylenol
Ease the pain until
They open the doors,
I walk in fast,
Almost breaking down
The glass that fills
In the windows,
The lady at the counter
Notices the bags
Underneath my eyes
From the lack of sleep,
She asks for an emergency
Contact, my face betrays
Me as my eyes widen,
While I think of what to
Say the pain comes back.

i'm on my way
towards thinking of you

As I start to notice that
The smell of the flowers

That cover the fields
Have found their way

Into my car,
It lays in my passenger seat,

Feet on the dashboard
All while enjoying

The music that
Shuffles through

The speakers,
I focus on the road ahead,

But every once in while,
I get distracted by

The greenery of the
Mountain range that sits

Idle on the horizon,
Cold coffee

And cigarettes fill
My stomach,

I flinch and check
The back seat

Where my heart sits,
Buckled up so

It doesn’t fly out
The open windows

A sigh of relief leaves
My body and into

The atmosphere,
Turning the day into night,

Giving me a new scenery,
With bright blue stars

That shine their light
Upon the street,

Showing me the way,
Suddenly a welcome to

Sign with your name on
It materializes in front

Of the head lights,
I stop at the next

Gas station,
I look up to

The spotlight that keeps
The shadows away,

And I wonder how
Bad can it actually be

To be happy.

It’s so gory,
There’s never a winning side,
The winters find a way
To stay 1 or two more days

In spring the rivers run
Off their course and
The flowers turn
Into pollen machines.

In fall the leafs
Dance with the wind
off the trees
All at once

And oh god,
The summer sun
Melts puddles into
My shirts

But you know
I can see some romance
In love

And how hugs
Feel like being wrapped
Around the mantle
Of the earth,

And water drips
From their lips
And i, lost.
With closed eyes,

Like a vagabond,
I’ll plead and beg
Through the traces
That fall in between
Your jaw and your cheeks

Just to pull out
As eyes interlock,
No words spoken
But so much said.

I woke up
On the right
Side of the bed
Today,

I took arms
The day before
And fought a
War,

That waited
And waited
For me, for
The right moment

To present itself
Upon my door,
And the sky
Looking

The perfect shade
Of baby blue,
A war wagered,
On blood and bones,

And love
and emptiness,
Oh, to win
Again,

On my terms,
And then feel
The breeze upon
My face.

I’m no killer,
But every once
In a while
I look at
The knifes
And ponder
A little too hard,
So instead I grab
My jacket and go
Outside, smoke
A cigarette,
watch the rain
Caress the concrete,
Creating little
Rivers,
I wonder
If my blood
Would pool,
Or if it’ll run,
What oceans
Will it find?

Hoy desperté,
otra vez,
tras un día más sin trabajo,
desaparecido entre sábanas.

Chocan contra mi ventana
las 5:00 am,
y me amanezco soñando
con soñar un poquito más.

Persigo migajas de pan,
como hormiga en el desierto,
me desvelo de hambre
y busco hasta la más diminuta gota
de agua en medio de sombras.

Sombras de lagunas
que algún día vieron vida
en el eco de sus ojos.

Necesito un diluvio, Dios.
Manda mares,
ahógame en mí mismo
y déjame soñar con algo más.

Siento que merezco más.

Today,
I happen to be
tired of being a man,
I walk empty streets,
That feel just as empty
As I stride on the asphalt.

my feet always
Tapping to the rhythm
Of the quiet palpitations
Of sorrow and one more day.

It will haunt me forever,
Missed opportunities,
The discouragement
To wake up remorseful
Again and again.

The sound of love and peace
That Leaves my lips
Every moment that I think
Of bougainvilleas,
The corals in the sea,
Avocado trees.

and You who looks
at me with pride
Every now and then.

In days,
Weeks,
Months
Like this

I can’t wait
To be happy.

Me compre una
Cafetera de estufa,
Prendo y caliento,
Y me siento a
Esperar la chilllaera,
El olor corrumpe
Las cortinas y las
Toallas, abre neveras,
Y limpia migajas de
Pan en la mesa,
Pesado en las arrugas
Nuevas que crean
Valles en mi frente,
Mientras el color de tus ojos
Da vueltas en mi mente,
Invirtiendo en las noches
Donde te tuve en mis brazos,
Atadados entre sabanas,
Y tu , Arbol de ceiba que anclo
Sus raices en mis venas,
Las dejare correr y drenar
Hasta la ultima gota de sangre,
El vapor sube, yo subo con el,
Y me siento en la humedad
De las nubes, peleando con la
Culpa y rayos de sol.

God spoke
to me today,
In the voice
of a precious
Woman who hides
From all
that’s wrong
Underneath her
Sheets.

The voice
soothes
My aching
bones,
That drag
behind
My skin,

It urged me
to believe,
To hope,
to love,
to want.

But how
can I
when all
I ever
wanted got
thrown
Into the
passion of
Burning fire.

And God,
I can’t
find myself
Today.

Or tomorrow

Or yesterday

Like a bee
In summer
Heat,
I get lost
in the
Flower
petals
And
the smell
Of gardenias

The nectar
that drips
off my lips
Helps
Me cope
Around
Sky scrapers
And this
unbearable
Ache that
Has found
a home
Somewhere
around
My chest.

How can
I God?

Throw a
Life vest
My way.

How much
Do I have
To beg
To be
Found?

I realize two things
As I’m walking down
Memorial city mall,
I remember every
Corner store,
Every turn and
Candy store,
I remember my
Legs trembling
Through multitude
Of people walking
Down the enormous
Open hall, nervous,
Holding tight onto
The hands of
A lost love,
As my insides
Twisted and turned,
My mind clutters
Like the house
Of a hoarder who’s
Passion is collecting
Misfortune and bad
Decisions,
Also, there’s no Barnes
And noble in here,
How unfortunate.

I come in
Into the office
And let the
Lady know
I’m here for
And interview,
With broken
English she
Tells me to
Wait in the
Waiting room
Since I’m early,
So I sit in
the middle
Of a room
Of People
I’ve never
met,
Some of them
Probably
More anxious
As I've been
Before,
There’s a
Mural of
A bull
With horns
Like the devil
On the wall,
And I sit
And wait,
Until my
Nervous
System
kicks in,
And my
Legs
Start to
Twitch,
What an
Eternal
Wait.

Back home,
lying down after a nightly walk,
the sky transforms,
a ceiling lit with holiday fireworks,
a web of little light bulbs
that flicker into shapes,
I see a a kite, and a smaller kite,
things unseen in the dim of the city.

Yet, I still feel lonely,
in the city,
Or in the corner streets I once knew.
I rise and walk
towards a home I once called home.

Each step, heavy with melancholy,
Some share the rythm.
Hands buried in my pockets,
holding on tightly,
somehow,
to my heart.

I hope to stand,
a few years from now,
where I once stood
frowning,
growing old
and reliable,
able to walk
on my own two feet
without flinching
at the rot of memory.

I hope the wind
still carries a tune
and maybe the smell
Of jasmine,

And somehow,
some way,
I’ll see my reflection
not just in tinted windows,
or puddles that ripple
with passing cars
but in the steady gaze
of someone kind,
quiet,
willing to stay.

Maybe, just maybe,
I’ll be wise enough
to see myself
in the tired eyes
of a stranger,
or the half smile
of someone I used to be.

And I’ll sit beside him
on a park bench
or a broken curb
Or the bridge above
The high way
Glaring at headlights,
and tell him

everything will be okay.
Not perfect.
Not painless.
But okay.

The trees grow
And will keep
Growing old,
The minutes pass
Through them
Dying off at
61 seconds
Like a stem
Of bundled
Up geraniums
That waited
for the cold
To pass,
A corpse murdered,
Leaving only the
Skeleton of what
Was once loved,
Motionless with age,
And then comes the rain,
Washing away
Spilled blood,
Silence, rain,
Turning the ground
Into stone,
Where a river will
Run through,
Waving life
As butterflies emerge
From their cocoons,
Natural, a sign,
Like the light
That shines upon
The moon and
the moon shines
Upon us,
So much fog
Will dim it
So much
Like smoke
Breaking loose
From a fire,
In the woods
Nothing is certain
But the man living,
And eating,
And smiling,
Noticing that
The trees
Eat time.

How heavy it is
that I seem to find
you in the eyes
of those I love now.

So inconsiderate,
wretched ghost,
poltergeist,
specter that haunts
my every sleep.

Following me
into every store,
every car,
every plane,
and boat.

How could
I ever live
without you,
when it’s you
that haunts
me?

The moon shines
bright tonight,
My hand extended
Closing in on
the ropes of light
That tie it down,
To be set in space
and time.

As I manage
to get a hold,
I pull and pull
with my back,
The seas tremble,
The ground laments,

What can I do?
But fall into desperation.

What can I say?
When there’s nothing to be said.

I fall back,
As my lower back aches
Like an old man’s
fishing at sea,
To show me
How heavy the moon
Really is.

Unattainable.

I’ve stopped dreaming
Of bringing down
The moon to your feet
I’ve also forgotten how silence
Sounds with you.

It's late
Into Halloween
Night,
I'm driving
Down bagby
Street looking
For a place to
Sit and think,
Uncomfortable
In my own skin
I try to zip
Up a tab
Of lsd,

Suddenly
I'm rolling down
The stairs
Down to
To the bayou,
I put my knees
Up to my chest
And wrap my
Arms around my
Legs as a quilt of
Ashes cover
My feet,
So tired but I
Can't sleep.

I see
The blue
Lights of the
Light post reflecting
Against ***** water,
The bayou rising,
Consequences of
A storm
Not present,
The fish splashing
And the people
Walking and running
And biking,
Life is in the
Unexpected,
But there's always
Something to expect
From a man with no
Destiny.

what a shame
There's no stars
In the sky tonight,
Or a pretty lady
With nice legs
To enjoy the
cold front with,
And I wish I could
Throw my skeleton
Into the water,
Watch it sink and
Squirm underneath
The pressure,

But instead I go
Up the multitude
Of stairs,
Observe the people
Dressed in costumes
Taking memories,
Just to drive
Back home
Under the shade
Of tall buildings
And start all
Over again.

I started to notice the walls
In my room again,
Empty,
Painted in white,
I wonder if peace lilies
Would compliment
The agony and anguish,
Or if I sit in the middle
Of the room,
As quiet and still
As a Lotus flower,
Delirious and vacant,
Will thoughts of letting go
Pass through my nervous
system and out of my body,
I look at my finger nails,
They have come from a
Place of war and anger
And love and trials,
Where would I be with them?

I’ve been on the tight
Rope lately,
And every time I fall
The net of old habits
Saves me with an embrace
So warm and familiar,

I let my fingers
Fall through just to see
How the other side
Would feel like,
Silent and cold,
Another familiar feeling

underneath
Cold bottles and
Lighter fluid,
Today I accidentally
Let the cigarette bud
On my legs run
Their course,

While I wonder how
She’s doing,
I wonder if there would
Still be passion
Behind every kiss,
Would the wind carry
Her scent towards me

I’m just an infant,
And it dangles keys
To catch my attention,
While her eyes glow
As we match the beat
That red cells carry
Through my veins,

But it was up to
Yesterday,
And time has
Been a great enemy,
Betrayer of the
Unfortunate,

Holding my head
Down towards
My mistakes, like
A dog it walks
Me through
The side walks
Of my apartment complex
For everyone to see.

I’ll hold unto
That shame in my
Briefcase along
With others,
I’ll put on a
Great smile
And baggy clothes,
And i’ll hop on
the summer breeze
Like dandelion seeds
Towards new beginnings

Will you stay?
Wrapped around
My arms underneath
My sheets,
And my pillows,
And the ceiling fan,
And the ceiling,
And the sky,
Let me fall
Into a deep slumber
As the warmth of
Your breath against
My chest defrost
Ancient drums
That pound a beat
So lost in time,
I start to believe again.

Amongst the sound
Of the rain hitting
The metal canopy
That covers the cars,
I can distinctly
Hear the horn
Of a train,
Everything else
Comes with imagination,
The wheels hitting
The track,
The wagons shaking
And roaring through
The intense rain
That floods the streets
And makes me feel
Nostalgic.

I have not allowed
Myself to be near
Real windows,
Not because
I’m scared of what
I would do,
But because I’m
Always drunk or high
And I could tumble
My way off a 5th
Floor by accident,
Or I could stare
Deeply into the crowd,
People. People. People.
So many walking fast,
Others holding hands,
The sky is falling,
I wish I could open
This window so
I can warn them,

But I am so tired.

I would like
To close my eyes
While I lay on your
Thighs and your hands
Knock on the door
And make themselves
At home while
Playing with my hair,
And I for the first
Time in what feels
Like forever,
Sleep and dream
Of love
And what ifs,
Until the morning sun
Comes through
shading in
The night
And I’m back
To being too
Scared of windows.

Oh, little
Prisoner of
Moments
And the
Materialistic,
Misled
And
Misunderstood,
When will
You find your
Own way?
Be late on rent,
Flip tables,
Argue with
The ones
Who mistreat
You.
Little one,
Things will
Be okay.

Across the street
From where I’m sitting on
An older blonde lady
Cries her eyes out,
Her friend or girlfriend or wife
Consoles her, making her laugh
In between tears.

I wonder what keeps
Them up at night

They won’t remember
this moment ,
Not because it’s not special
But because she seems so
Good at making her
Happy, even though
She was just
Crying herself
A puddle underneath
Her feet.

This was not
The first time.

I think to myself
I should have made her laugh
As thoughts of yesterday
Run through her mind
Ease the pain that can’t be
Eased with paper towels
And ice packs

The sky is getting darker
It looks like it’s about to rain
I should tell them to run
Back inside.

I wouldn’t want it
To ruin their night.

I’m certain,
That one day
I will forget.

Until that day
Comes

I will remember
To forgive all that
Should be forgiven,
Myself for that matter.

And most importantly,
I will love all that
Should be loved,
I will live through
All that should be lived.

I will seek the
Field of daisies
That waits for me
Patiently,
At the mountain top.

I won’t look down,
Except for when I do,
To remember you,
Beautiful and
Only beautiful.

I can’t wait,
To lay my heart to rest,
On the flower bed,
That sits at the peak.

I’ll sit right besides it,
And as I forgive and forget,
I’ll find peace
In the changing of the winds,
And the breathtaking
Sunset over the horizon.

It’s snowing.
The kids are outside,
laughing, building little moments,
As they cuddle the snow
In their hands,
mothers framing their joy
maybe it’s their first time
seeing snow in person.

For me, it’s only the second.
The first was barely snow,
more like ice
brushing concrete,
clinging briefly,
melting as if it knew
it didn’t belong,
Inevitable.

Back then,
a silhouette followed me,
a woman I loved.
Her eyes rested on my shoulders,
her steps trailing mine,
as I, spellbound by the ice and the cold,
ran wild across empty, frozen parking lots.

In another life,
I might have prayed,
might have begged,
Might have hoped
for that moment to stretch forever,
but my hands are hurting now,
and the snow is already melting.

I sit,
and look at the
Gardeners with
Their shovels
And mowers.

the steam cleaners
In their white vans
On their way to scam
Their next victim.

the retail workers
With bags
Underneath
Their eyes,
So tired of waiting
For the last check
of the month,
And the second job they
Have to hold.

The mundane drips
From their open wounds,
And I just hope,
To be more like them.