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.

I held you
tightly,
on top of an
eight-story parking lot,
right after a cigarette
and a long walk
down the bayou.

A city so similar,
yet so different
from our own,
the smell of desire
checking corners,
slipping through museum corridors,
obsessed with
uncentering paintings
drawn long before
you and me.

Before we leave,
to return to the mundane,
I perch a kiss,
so unnecessary,
but so needed.

Flowers start blooming,
first between cracks in the pavement,
then in the hollow of my chest.
Their roots stretch inward,
clinging to all that
once felt barren.

Petals unfurl
in places I thought
were long forgotten
soft violets behind my ribs,
sunflowers tracing
the outline of your smile.
Each bloom carries
the weight of us,
fragile, fleeting,
but alive.

As I sit
In the middle
Of a blunt
Rotation

I lean back on
The chair
As the birds
Fly by,

The sun filters
Through the
Leafs of an
Oak,

“What is it
That you guys
Say again?”
“Puñeta”

Everyone erupts
Simultaneously,
“Puñeta!”
And we laugh.

a corona gets
Passed from hand
to hand
And I watch

This salvadorian
Make a perfect
Puerto Rican
Impression

That for a second
Got me at the edge
Of my seat
Holding on

Onto the arms rest,
Sobered up my high
And made me feel
Like I was sitting

Back home
At the edge of
The bottom
Bed

Of my friends
Bunkbeds,
I laugh and
Take a swig

Off the cold
Bottle and wonder
Why it tastes
So bitter sweet.

I walk by the street,
Evading the lines
On the sidewalk,
I noticed a guy
Working on his car,
The same way I’ve noticed
Him for the past 3 days,
I jump over four leafs
Clovers and open
The doors to the
Corner store,
I grab my usual,
A watermelon
Arizona,
Then I walk up
To the counter
And ask for a
Pack of camels 99,
A look of glee
Reflecting on
The glass that
Protects the
Cashier,
I walk back outside,
The sun beaming
Bright yellow
Through rain
Clouds that are starting
To dissipate,
The same guy,
Now sleeping in his car,
I wonder,
Where will it
All take us?

I feel more at home lately
Alone and lost,
Learning, despite
The agonizing
Disappointment
I have in myself.

Every once in a while,
I look in the mirror,
Observe the body that is,
And think of what once was.
It has changed so much
In the span of you
Not being here with me.

Your absence left
A time stamp,
Like a terrible
Natural disaster,
One everyone remembers.

I should have
Hidden you,
Like a bad cut,
A self inflicted burn,
Or a cat not meant to be inside
Because you've been told for ages
You are allergic.

You’re right.
I’ve become someone
My dad would be proud of,
And the very thing
That drove my mom insane.

But she’s learned to forgive,
Left hate buried
In the back of the cabinets,
Behind clean dishes.

She smiles like sunny days.
She hugs like she’s trying
To pull me back
Into her skin
Deep into who I was
Before time, chores,
Nine to fives, broken promises,
And you.

The cloudy night sky
Didn’t let me see the stars today
It was just me and the moon
Enjoying our time together
Being more than just friends
Being less than, anything else.

The unobtainable moon,
Chatting with a mere poet
That doesn’t know
where he’s stands
Between himself and her,

What does he seek?
What does he want?

He doesn’t know,
It doesn’t know
where or why
Or how,
He just knows
That he doesn’t know

And that time will tell,

In different ways

Life will answer him,
What he’s been
screaming to the moon

All those years.

It’s 95 degrees
At 4:00 pm,
Sweat drips
Through the
Valleys that time
Has been leaving
On my face,
There’s salt stains
Down to my stomach,
But I can’t seem to
Find anything to
Complain about,
I can talk with
A frown on my face
That shows the tan
On my forehead
About how lonely
And dark
The nights can get,
And maybe sweets
Aren’t tasting as sweet,
Or how bacon is overrated,
Or how annoying it is
To get a new drivers license,
But life has brought
So much color around me,
the cicadas are singing
Along with the sparrows
And the blue jays,
The tree that sits idle
Outside my apartment door
Has been holding so much
Green upon its branches,
A great place to cool off
From the buttery
scorching sun.

Hoy me desvanezco
entre las sombras
de un ayer.

He escrito tanto
que ya no sé
qué debo sentir.

Ya no lloro
como solía llorar,
pero amo aún
como solía amar.

¿Será crecer
el no sentir?
Entonces,
¿para qué crecer?

Sufrimiento inútil
que trae felicidad,
shots de dopamina
en botellitas de
cincuenta miligramos.

Qué pena vivir,
no sentir,
desaparecer.

Esperaré la primavera,
con petunias y rosas,
árboles de colores,
y un frío
que puedo soportar.

Pero qué pereza
esto de vivir
si no pudiera amar
ni sonreír.

Hoy salgo a las calles
a caminar,
me perderé en los ojos
de extraños,
ojos llenos de vida
y de potencial,

que han amado,
que han despreciado.

Y conectaré con quienes,
como yo,
también desaparecieron
en busca de su ser

I took on poetry,
And books,
And more books
To calm the bitter
Taste of salt water.

My heart
Takes no respite,
As it swallows and
Drowns in the
Mediocrity.

While autumn
Sinks his teeth
Into meat
That I so
Solemnly
Follow
Catching up
With every
Living breath
Just to feel the bite
Marks left behind.

My heart is not
One to give up.

I live
Through misery,
In hopes that it’ll
Bloom in the
Evenings of spring
Bringing the butterflies
That I wait to wake up
With one day,
My stomach has been
Empty for a second too late.

And the bees,
Oh the bees.

So magnificent
As they succumb
To the nectar
And take it back
Home to be made
Into honey.

Hard workers in
Look of hard work.

Patience is virtue
And I’ll wait in the
Roaring sea.
Through harsh winters
And freezing rains.

Just to feel,
What I’ve felt again.

I miss you,
on afternoons after long days,
new calluses forming
from gripping buckets,
on endless drives
where my eyes fight sleep.

Where are you,
my love,
that I don’t see you
or feel you
resting on my chest,
your bare knee
tucked between mine?

Morena,
beautiful girl who loves with her eyes,
roses pressed into every kiss,
I miss them,
every morning I wake
with only dawn to keep me company.

Kiss me, pretty girl,
tangled in a sea of sheets.
Kiss me now,
and later,
on lonely mornings
and quiet afternoons.

Do it now,
as the air fills with pollen,
as spring unravels red buds
one by one.

The pecan trees know
the cold won’t return.

So let me hold you,
my aching hands wrapped around you,
for as long as you are here.

I'm at that diner again,
sitting by myself
in a corner booth,
analyzing, observing,
thinking about this broken girl
I knew for a little while.

Her dad is dying
In the hospital,
Cirrhosis,
another tormented soul.
I'm glad I haven’t fallen
that deep,
but I see the appeal.

I told her
I can’t be friends
with her anymore.
I isolate when
things get difficult,
and I’m starting to notice
the walls,
having too many
late night drives.

Life has been hard
on her, on all of us.
I hope she finds peace
outside the bottle.

The bird sings
To the sun
Acclamations
As it prays
And builds
Itself a nest,
He then flies
Through the trees
And around
the branches
Like a circus
gymnast
Dressed in
tight colors
Just to dive up
Around the sea
Of Leafs until
He finds himself
Souring through
The clouds,
Close enough
To the sunset,
Praising the
Tints of orange
And reds
Running through
What we
could call
Personified life,
He then
sings again,
One last
time for the day,
Before twilight
Reigns the sky
With constellations
Of stars that are too
Far to hear the singing
Or the crying or
The laughter.

The clouds look
Just right today

In between yellow
Green branches

And parking lot
Light posts

The people coming
Out of the garden center

Hop on one leg
And feel the breeze

Upon their hair while
Gently caressing their face

I look at the sky again,
From the windows

Of my small hatchback
With my feet out,

The sun upon my skin,
And a lit cigarette

On my left hand, while
I write this on my right

And I think and think
And think and think,

While reading “time is
A mother” by vuong

I don’t have much time,
I have to clock in again.

Choose me,
Use me,
Let me
Take
Your
Troubles
Away.

My thoughts scramble
And dig and dig
Until they reach
My skull where they bump
The shovel and Grit
Their teeth.

Every morning,
when the city still sleeps,
and skyscrapers glow softly
against the dark canvas,
I drive through
its quiet pulse,
finding a strange solace
in the mundane.

The beauty of the artificial
like catching the gaze
of someone you love,
their eyes familiar,
or cradling a warm cup of coffee
on a bitter winter morning.

Don’t get me wrong,
my mind still wrestles
with suicide notes,
drafts of nothingness
beyond death,
or whispers of
reincarnation.

But I’ve been learning
to linger in the sunlight,
to cherish a good conversation
with someone twice my age,
to lose myself, head nodding,
to a new album
on the drive home.

Maybe it isn’t so bad,
even if, some days,
it feels like
they’re winning.

Do you
look up
From your
work as much
As I do
when I
just need
To get another
look at you,
It’s a straight
rush of dopamine
To be able to
Place my eyes
Upon your
Curves that
Like hibiscus
Flowers
Let butterflies
Rest upon
The petals that
Droop down
After a day
Of rain.

I would chase the scent of your hair
down dark, eerie alleys.
A blessing, perhaps a curse,
if you were there
standing idle,
waiting for me to reach the end of your trace.

I would look up, breathless,
after rolling up and down
Through hills,
searching for you,
a hidden beauty among the others.

Let me kneel,
offering you my soul,
submitting my will.
I would kiss your thighs,
find all the ways to worship you.

My hands would run
through the cotton of your shirts,
seeking refuge underneath
defrosting in the campfire of your hips.

I would dance for rain
around the beauty marks of your body,
planting seeds of kisses,
waiting for a downpour.

Let me be drenched
in all that is you
completely, sorely
you.

I find myself lost for words
Every time that I stand in front
Of you,

I can feel my eyes looking for
Yours getting disoriented along
the way, eye contact has
never been my
Strong suit,

As I see the walls close in on us,
I can feel all that I’ve been wanting
To say get stuck on the roof of my mouth,
Creating a sky with stars that burns
A hole through,

In the few years that I’ve lived,
I’ve never been a talker,
But I think of all the ways
I would tell you how
The way you walk away,
Leaves me craving that you
Would turn around and give
Me a little more of your time,
Precious, I’m lost in what
I should have said,

In the space in between your steps,
In the way your hair curls and drips
Down your shoulders putting
Down a blanket where I could lay,
I find myself caged,
Bound to the bars by ball and chain,
Wishing that these words would
Find their way to you,
To let you know how
You make me feel
On a day to day.

I stand here wrapped in
the dark of morning
the firefly lights
Bounce color into my retina,
Twisting and turning
The dark shade
of green of the trees
Around me.

And, as the shadows
of morning lightens up,
Buildings color
my peripherals,
Success and failures
of other people
Stand high and low.

A jungle of Melodies,
That intertwine
with what I’m feeling,
Spider webs left
behind gloom over,
Empty, empty and Sad.

I can’t seem to get out,
Thoughts that follow
me everywhere I go
Are starting
to come out,
like cobwebs of
a spider who
lost his way
Vacant for the
next person to fill,
I run and I trip
And I get up
When I just
want to lay down.

I miss the moments
in my life
Where it felt
so obvious,
Like I’ve lived
this before,
So easy as if
it was pumping
Through my veins,
Just like walking,
Just like running,
Just like breathing.

Bukowski wrote
“I loved you
like a man loves
a woman he never
touches, only writes to,
keeps little photographs of.”

And I wish that was the case,
Because when the night
Gets darker and darker
And the streets
Get filled with shiny
Lights and long days,

I start to remember the
Smell of your hair,
The silk on your skin,
The dew on your eyelashes.

And the poems
You have written about me,
The bad ones,
And the good ones.

When the room starts
Smelling like rot and
Decay.

And I can’t keep my hands
Off of the kitchen knifes
And the lights flicker
Morse code.

I think to myself
what if I would have stayed
In the comfort of my home
And sunk in the problems
That I had and didn’t have.

What would have been
Of my life.

God, my heart has carved
A hole open in my chest,
Learned to walk and
Started running away
From me.

What will I do now,
That he’s not here
To guide me through,
Oh, lantern in the night,
Why have you escaped,
When we both know
It was my idea,

The ground that I stand
On now feels misplaced
And out of shape, wobbly
Like a bouncy castle with
The top open so you can
Observe the top of the trees,
And the skyline and the stars,
Play catch with the moon.

But I’m not a kid anymore,
And every time the drop
Fills the cavity left open
With fear that the ground
Will some how change back.

No te he tenido mucho,
pero ya siento tu ausencia.

Mis ojos recorren calles,
buscándote en cada esquina,

Ojos que conocieron
tus mejillas
mucho antes
que mis manos
tuvieron tus caderas,
ardientes en un mar
de carne y migajas de pan.

En tu piel,
color café con leche,
me ahogaba
mientras te observaba.

Y, si somos honestos,
amor mío,
nunca te he tenido,
ni cerca, ni lejos.

Tal vez,
nunca te tendré.
Pero cuánto te anhelo.

Te llevaste
las lluvias de mayo
y trajiste
flores de loto
a lagos ya rebosantes.

Sembraste girasoles
que se alimentan
de la luz
en tu sonrisa.

Te llevaste
el dolor de mis piernas
para que pudiera andar,
vagabundo,
bajo las sombras
de la luna llena
en tu pelo.

Amor mío,
hoy te tuve cerca,
pero te fuiste,
y no sé qué hacer
con mis ojos.

The ship goes down again,
And I go down with it,

Pummeled by opposing waves,
I linger.

Another pair of eyes,
Another warmth against my skin,

Another strand of hair
My hands have traced

Built castles,
And demolished them.

Turbulence,
So much turbulence,

I drown
In this everlasting feeling.

Yet, I reach for the surface,
Moonlight just out of my grasp.

home cooked dinners,
Fresh cinnamon brownies,

Just out of the oven,
A last minute road trip

Your hands, my hands,
Your lips, my lips.

Another soul
To miss.

The sound of your voice
Enters through my veins,

It runs havoc as I listen to
You speak how your day went,

Chained by the tremble
In between words

and the way your lips
Would taste like honey,

I try to concentrate but my
Eyes set me loose

As I trace the moles around
Your body,

Constellation of fallen stars
Adorn you from head to toe,

I connect them with stellar
Imagination and wonder,

Which one would I plant
A kiss on first,

Then second,
Then third,

I would spend many days,
And maybe months,

Traveling the wild waters
Of your curves,

On a sail boat,
I hope for a tragedy,

For the wind to get too
Rowdy and tip me over,

So I can swim on the corners
Of your hips,

And drown on the shores
Down your legs

It’s 1 am,
My friend in the
Front seat rolls
Another blunt
As the light
Post that are
Starting to
get warm
Cast a shadow
Of the old
Jeep wrangler
That we ride in
Going nowhere,
We take a right,
And then a left,
I sit in the back,
With a light mentol
American spirit
Perching upon
My lips,
Im lost in a train
Of thought,
You can almost
See the steam
Oozing from
My head.

Me siento a comer
después de un largo día.

Observo las mesas
mientras espero ordenar
lo de siempre.

Un hombre,
cabello *****,
piel un poco más oscura que la mía,
frunce el ceño.

Sujeta el tenedor
como un puñado,
lo golpea contra el plato
entre cada mordisco.
Los clacks resuenan,
irregulares, secos.

En la tele,
las noticias murmuran algo
sobre redadas, sobre cifras,
Aviones cayendo del
Cielo, aceite y alcohol.

Desvío la mirada.
Vuelvo a mirar.
Tres veces,
hasta que nuestros ojos
se encuentran.

¿Es odio lo que veo en ellos,
o quizás miedo?

Me pregunto,
¿Qué verá el en
Los míos?

The sun crawls over
my dusty window,
And through the *****
beige curtains

Rays of sunshine
bring color to my room,
Though I appreciate
the sentiment

I grab tightly unto
the ropes of light,
I tight myself a noose,
and slowly set it
Down for later,

I’ll move a chair,
To my favorite
Part of the living Room,
I’ll put on my best clothes,

Smoke a last cigarette,
And breath a little fresh air,
I hop unto the chair,
I let my hair down,
I put the noose around my neck
I can feel it itch and burn,
I give my heart another chance
To let go,

An overwhelming feeling
Comes over me,
Like my chest is trying to explode,
I lament as palpitations
Try to cave in my rib cage,
As if day turns into night
And there’s nothing I can
Do to stop it.

But god, oh god.

I want to stay awake.

Feel the breeze that knocks on my door,
And the thought
of being able to love again,
Grants me a little bit of hope,
I can’t keep living like this,
I’ve cried distilled waters
So many that
Lately I tip toe
Around containers
That catch the excess
My skin can’t retain.

I wish to surrender to the wind,
I Open the door to let it in,
As it passes through me,
The noose around my neck starts to fade,
And I’m free,
For maybe another Day.

Oh father,
Sit in your throne
Of lies and rejoice,
Life has sat me down
In the dark
With a gun to my
Head, loaded with
The truth.

I call my grandma
Mama Myriam,

She’s my dads mom,
So I didn’t spend

Much time with her
Growing up

That doesn’t matter
To her when I call,

She talks as if she
Loves unconditionally,

So difficult to understand,
But the time goes on.

And she tell stories,
Not the ones in books

But the ones that make
Her scars ache,

And I listen,
Attentive,  

Patient,
Quiet,

As the city outside
Rumbles the windows,

And my furniture
Decays where it stands,

She tells her stories,
With a cat on her lap,

You can almost hear
The purrs through

The phone,
And what stories she tells,

About love, and life,
And betrayal, and abuse,

What a life she has lived,
She thanks me for listening,

With an “I love you”
As I ready up to hang up,

No, Mamá,
Thank you.

When I used to think
About my dad,
Not much came up,
But I remember
Getting excited,
Every time my mom
Picked up the phone
And it was my him,
On the other line,
Asking when he
Can pick me up,
Scheming for
A good time

It felt almost like
A school trip,
On those yellow
Trucks without
Ac but a stereo
System that would
Shake the windows
Of the new houses
I get to see.

Always an adventure,
Always something new
To experience,
Always good.

It’s as if the bad
Was concealed
Behind the curtain
That just closed up
The actors of a
Very corny drama,

It was hard to come
To him in times of need,
Always working,
Always busy,
Always in love,
Always living a life,

But lately,
He has been helping
Me kick stones out
Of my path.

“Necesitas algo”

“Estás bien mi niño””

“Si tú eres mi hijo,
Esto es lo que va pasar”

If you are my son,
He says.

I fall down from exhaustion,
And accept his apology.

I want you
To hold still
Like a statue
In a museum,

Everyone will
Stop to look
at your silhouette
While basking
In your shadow,

They’ll drop
Flowers and wine
At your feet
As offerings,

And your beauty
Will reach the rims
Of the ears
Of emperors
Across the oceans

And the seas
And the rivers,
All bodies of
Water separate
In your presence,

But here you are,
Anxiously walking
From side to side,
Searching for what
Shouldn’t be searched for,

My love,
Please sit still,
Let me adore
The ground
That you stand on,

With flower petals
From a dying rose
That I’ve been holding
For so long,

I’ll reach deep within
My chest, and with
Bloodied hands
I’ll place my heart
At your feet.

I wonder why
Your hair is
Always covered,
But not enough
For me not to see
A part where
The back
Of my fingers
Could gently
Caress as
It curls around
Them like
Mandevilla,
They can
Make themselves
At home,
And grow a
Garden covering
My arms
And protect me
Against the
Sunshine
That tans
And burns
My skin.

Have I lost you,
In the cardinal
winds?

Has it lifted you,
Far from where
We are?

Aveces me siento
A pensarte,
Y me da con mirar
Las cosas que as
Escrito,
Angustiado
Por la Noche,
Y las ganas
De no poder
Dormir me arropan
Otra vez,
Pero tus palabras
Me traen salvacion
En una Noche
Sin Estrellas,
Cerca del agua,
Tan lejos
Pero tan cerca
De ti mi amor,
Tal vez
As dejado
Un vacio
En este
Vagabundo
Sin futuro
Que tanto amastes,
Y que pena
Que me a tomado
Tanto tiempo
Con la nevera
Vacia para darme
Cuenta que tus
Besos eran la razon
Por la que vivia,
Y ahora muero
De hambre.

I saw her working,
as soon as I came
into this diner.
She shines a light,
I know it well,
yellow like sunflowers,
like rays of sunshine.

A presence so apparent,
it has me walking down
the street with a smile,
while I stitch my heart
together again,
maybe for the last time.

Just wait for me
a little longer, please.
The leaves are just
starting to fall,
to decay.

I'm waiting,
For the sky
To open up
And drop
You at my feet.

Dressed up
In high
Waisted pants
And a bouquet
Of flowers
I hope you
Would like,

When I see
You, tumbling
And shaking
Your fall,

It'll sound like
Whistles of
A happy man
Going on
His day,

It'll show
In the way I
Tap my feet
And fiddle my
Fingers,

My eyes will
Drop your gaze
And my hands will
Tremble along
The tune,

And I'll write
Your name
Upon pages
Of a watered
Down book,

Filled with sentences
And stanzas
That have lost
Their muse,

Sentences filled
With crazy and
Passion, illusions
Of cursed letters,

That attached
Themselves
Upon my skin
Making me a
Slave of
my words.

As I drive besides
The bayou,
Under cold
Plagued trees,
Thoughts of swinging hammocks
In the midst of humid heat
Pushes through
every other thought,
Francisco swings on the
Second hammock
That sits a little deeper
Into the the skeleton
Of a concrete house
That begs to be built,
Abandoned but not,
He’s probably high
Off his mind,
Classes are passing by,
The moment was now,
And what a way to
Spend it.

tonight the moon
shares her glare with us,
Giving us permission to look,
Blushing light,
Dimmed among
The constellations
That surround the
High ceiling above our heads,
But bright enough to
Be able to see the
Smile on your face,
Sadly I sit alone today,
Like I’ve sat for the
Past seven to eight months,
I’ve learned to enjoy
Moments like this,
I say alone,
But I share the night,
With the moon
And the stars
And the trees
And open lit
Windows,
I finish my cigarette,
With a last smoke
That seems to triple
In size because
Of how cold it is,
And I run inside
To the warm
And my cats
That lay with me
On this beautiful night.

Once again,
I dance alone
In those lost
Gardens you
And me used
To take care of,
Now it’s
Overgrown,
Hidden behind
A vine wall
That hides the
undisturbed
Beauty
and purity
And sweet
scents,
At night
the flowers
Light up,
the stars
Walk among
me to show
Me the way,
I’ve been
Walking
So long
Through  
Rose bushes,
The thorns have
Embedded
Themselves
Into my skin
Up to my hips,
I hope the
Day comes
They become
Roots, my arms
Branches of a
Shrub I won’t
Be able to name
Anymore,
While I wait
For rain,
For now I’ll
Just walk,
And walk
And walk
And walk,
While my blood
Feed the ones
That have lost
Their battle
Against time.

The adrenaline rush fades,
leaving me dangling,
empty handed,
clutching nothing but
bloodied words.

What will become of me?
I thought I was ready
but when will it be enough?
How many lessons,
how much pain
must I endure?

God, I don’t
**** with you anymore.
All you know
is tough love.

When will it
finally
be enough?

It’ll always be you,
The same way
It’ll always be me.

The window blinds
Open for the
First time since
I’ve been living here,
A potted plant
Shadows the
Streets during
The night
And during
The day it
Hugs the walls
Tight.

A figure walks down
The rooms,
Gliding as if
She was ice skating
Across the carpeted
Floors.

I’m sitting across,
Smoking,
Watching
The shadows swim
Through the
Washed down
Windows,

Tones of a home
Can be seen,
I wonder what
Goes on inside.

I think I should
disappear
for a little while,

hide beneath rocks,
sleep on park benches,
let the world forget me.

I’m throwing all
my effort
into nothingness

it offers no response,
no echo,
no hope.

Tired eyes,
a heart in despair,
waiting.

You must
taste me first
to love me

like I’ve been loved.
Oh, how I
need love now.

I wonder how long
consequences
will shadow me,

grappling tight
to the hunch
on my back.

Nothing is deserved,
or do I know
I deserve better?

When will a
hungry man
find rest enough

to stand,
to provide,
to believe,
to want?

As I stand there in the isle
besides the bottles of detergent

That I entered knowingly
that you were there

As if a spotlight runs behind
your every step shining light

That evaporates the
humidity and discomfort,

I still have to pretend to be
Someone to be able to

Strike up a conversation,
It flows and shapes

Around my tongue,
That dances a tune

I wish for you to hold
Very dear,

And then I slide away
On the concrete floor

Not as dark as it used to be,
As I think to myself,

If not now,
Then when?

I’ve been enjoying
wandering thrift stores,
finding clothes I never thought
I’d wear before.

Everyone rummages
through hand me downs,
worn jeans, washed-out shirts
and I rummage too,
the scent of cigarettes
lingering on my fingertips,
cheap cologne
leaving hickeys on my neck.

This city has seen me
turn into a better man,
or maybe just a man.
I hope I’ve been better.

Outside, I drive
through avenues of skyscrapers,
no left turns, only right.
I envy them,
their grandeur,
how they bask in the afternoon sun,
shiny and unbothered.

They’re cared for,
with workers dangling high,
cleaning windows
on the 9th, maybe 10th floor.
They’re proud,
unshaken.

If I were as much man
as they are skyscrapers,
maybe things would feel lighter,
easier on the shoulders.

But then again
they haven’t been loved.
Of course not.
They are no one.

And there’s where I have the advantage.

que seran de tus ojos,
Ojos que insitan a pecar,

Color madera en medio
Del bosque,

Los escuchare caer
Hasta en mis sueños,

Que pena me dio,
Ver inundaciones

Y terremotos,
Huracanes

Y tormentas
Sin nombre,

El silencio
Despues es aterrador,

Me intento esconder
Debajo de sabanas

Despues de haber
Cerrado cortinas.

Arropado en un
Mar de tela,

Me ire desasiendo
De ti

Y te sudare
Como una fiebre,

Ya que es tarde,
Y a pasado tiempo,

Tiempo en el que
Ya no te tengo,

Perdido
Y desorientado,

Me ahogo
Mientras duermo,

Asi que mardito,
Vagare las noches,

trabajare de dia,
Y olvidare tu nombre

En arenas blancas
Bajo una noche estrellada.