what do i have to bear?
an impromptu regression
to the form i was when i couldn’t feed myself
now i wander on the fields
connecting roads to their familiar destinations
i don’t want to feed myself
the sustenance that enters is a formidable beast
a creature who desperately longs to hurt me
my stomach hungers for a substance that won’t dictate the afternoons i have.
passed out upon a feathery bed
hands clutched to my stomach
as it groans.
when will the nightingale wake me up from this nightmarish disorder?
as though he isn’t already dead on my windowpane
i forgot to feed everyone else in my unbridled purge
once my life ends will i figure out that
the storm can mirror the looks of your body
and it’s not you?
if i saw a glance of my reflection
in the same pool that Narcissus did
would i drown myself because of all the hatred i feel towards myself?
it’s not me in the photographs.
oh, nightingale where do you rest?

girl in your salty apparition
drastic ammunition
posed for the dreary mood of the camera screaming slurs on
television
withheld by the standards of creation

poor girl
the daughter of society’s atrocities
you have synchronized heart failure
with the darkness
the desert sand engulfs you
it transports you into the hyperbolic grasp of reality

girl and your insatiable hunger to be bigger than the swords that chop off your limbs
you are the choices you make
you are the friends you make
you are the opportunities you take
you are the you that you are terrified of
the you that shines with red blood dripping from her fangs
the you that violates the system
the you that ingests chemicals so she can feel whole
the you that has been burned to the ground

girl in the danger zone that is your lungs
your venomous victimhood
encroaches on your meaning to exist
yet in spite of your crestfallen volition
you can divorce
the misnomers
you can transform
into a creature that looms over your sorrow
and pecks away at its core

girl in the heart, mind, body, and flesh
be the force of nature you couldn’t stomp out
be the ammunition that locks and loads and explodes
stop the premonition of an incoming battle
lock your jaw and
connect the fragments of your stricken language
yet don’t harden the hit on the clambering back
of the man who keeps all of his power
locked in a lockbox
don’t form a coalition
and strike his shoulder
with bleached eyelids
alike colluded soldiers following orders    

girl with your soggy teardrops
it will all be over
and the summer will hold you
with both of its arms
and you will embrace
not shortly, for a long period of time
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 know love
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 be acknowledged
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 be reborn from the ashes
phoenix,
though the trees will topple onto your highways
and the stars might seem light years away
you’ll get there someday
and when you do
i will withhold you in the ecstatic standards of creation
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 abandon the reprises
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 sing in the opera
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 adopt a new method
and divest the old
screeching with indignation
your shaky hand will greet another and
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 fall in love
either with the affairs of your unkept emotions
or with a kind individual who promises you stability

be freed from your chains
and set off into the horizon
the you that you are
rose from the ashes
you are the you that you always were

should i be overcome with possibility or with a weak frame of mind? what do you have in mind, wise one? are your cheek bones usually this sunken in? does the setting horizon usually mirror your image? does the pain you feel define you? how shall it not? i slept for years in a bed that wasn’t mine, scared of my shadow, scared of the phantoms in the closet. i performed for myself. is that why i never felt belonging or a longing to my own self, as my own entity? i forgot what life meant in my rampant race for closure. i found out your mind can lie. it can scheme. it can puncture a lung. it can violate you and you won’t even pay mind to it. it will feel like kindness and maybe it is because you are weak. the flood can creep in when you are sleeping. it can suffocate you when you are unaware. my compassion gets mistaken, i know. the storm can brew right upon your doorstep, leaving you no time to stop it. does the dismantling of others make you a deity? i’d like to know if the pillow you sleep on at night is too firm or too perfect. cause when i sleep, i hear a distant rumbling, and no, it doesn’t send me to sleep. it drives me to the brink of insanity. it doesn’t hurt to be alone, it hurts to be seen yet ignored, it hurts to be invisible. yet sometimes, i want to hide from the impending doom. there is a spirit inside of my head, but i think it is myself because i don’t believe in such things. sometimes i speak to the ghosts of the people that have left me. through my writing, i see rhymes where they weren’t before and i see meaning where i only saw words. i have forgotten the meaning of happiness. i have forgotten the feeling of belonging. i have forgotten the meaning of bliss. there are some days i forget the void in my stomach exists, but it still constantly persists. i feel like i’ve watched my life unfold like a film reel. it’s going by so fast, but i’m like a zombie with this internal pace. i can’t find meaning in things. yet, as i watched the stars in the deep night sky, i felt so tiny compared to them. they have been around forever. every person that has suffered a disaster looked up to the stars to find a helping hand. and they found it. for me, i’m afraid to expose myself to the world. even to the stars in my backyard. they are floating ***** of light and what am i? something of such lower significance. what am i and why does life feel like a switchblade in my neck? my faint revolution will be peace and anger and blurted words i kept inside so long. i don’t belong, and i’m just so sorry God. i will try. i have tied my wings back. shall i fly or will i break and come crashing back into this negligible dead land? will i be the daughter that even strangers are proud of or will i be the lump in your throat, the unwashed laundry, the burnt toast? i can’t feel who i am, the numbness has set over me. i failed you, but i will still try. make no mistake. yet if the mountains descend over my body, i will be taken and there will be not much left of me. when the birds have pecked at my skin and my eyes have lost their irises, how will i see myself? as the flesh decomposes, what will remain?

he ido al lugar donde descansas.
encontré tu forma en la arena.
algún día, te encontraré otra vez
en las señales
o en una cueva
con rosarios en tus manos cerradas.
te miraré con confusión
sorprendida con tu cara familiar.
no cárcel puede guárdame para siempre.
las paredes son demasiada delgadas
y mi amor para ti es más fuerte.
te amo con cada hilo de mi ser.

yo estoy sola
en mi imaginación
en mi realidad
en una multitud de personas.

te encontraré otra vez
cerca de los puentes
buscando tu corazón.
he corriendo miles de millas toda mi vida
cada paso más débil que el previo
rayos en el cielo
apuntando a ti.
ven acá
en el jardín donde el verano es para siempre
y nadie habla conmigo
excepto a ti
y no me importa
de verdad,
me gusta el ruido que haces en mi mente.

mis sentimientos te darán la claridad
cuando mi voz no te dará la verdad.

he te amado desde que tocaste mi corazón frágil
con tus guantes de oro.
eras un caballero
ahora no puedo encontrarte.
donde está mi hombre?
el tipo que se corre
más rápido que el viento
pero no te extraño
en este momento,
solo te quiero encontrar
en la selva o en mis sueños
no me importa.

de vez en cuando,
me siento con Esperanza
sobre una silla
en el patio.
hablamos como amigas
pero no conozco a ella.

con una voz como una brisa de la primavera
el sol palidece en comparación
a su sonrisa.
un olor hecho de cerezas.
ella se sienta a mi lado
y,
a veces,
hay un vacío que llena

ella sabe libertad
ella la tuvo
aunque se parece que
ella está atrapada
cada día
ella no es una esclava.

de vez en cuando,
ella se besa mis mejillas
entonces
deja con mi alma
y espero que
ella regresa
algún día.

i collect the fireflies in my hand
gazing at the pink sky
as the sun sinks below the atmosphere.
i feel them buzz around my fingers
chaotically and rhythmically.
i’m the background singer
in my stage show
i’m a fraud
i’m sapphire stones
bleeding blue on my own.
the wasps are moving
the trees are eerily still.
i’m never letting these fireflies go.
the only release i’ve had in a while.
i’m tired of having a rehearsed smile
in the back of my throat.

the fireflies have died inside my hands.
i suffocated them
with my sweaty palms
and scrunched fingers.
my first mistake was believing in miracles.