1d Noemi
Perry
Be careful of the words
you say to others,
but be most careful
of the words
you say to yourself
  1d Noemi
Perry
Dont break something,
that's already bleeding
Noemi 1d
I’m just a pretty little girl dressed up in                pink
Waiting to flourish
To grow up and become
Someone I would much rather not be
I can’t be ambitious
I can’t speak my mind
For my gender
Decides the future that’s for me
I am not a male
So I am told
I should surpress the real “me”
and bite my tongue down
As society speaks
Of the future it has intended for me

~Noemi
This is quite different from my typical poem. However, it is an issue that I feel very passionate speaking about. As a girl, society makes us seem inferior and weak... we are nothing of such sort.
  Nov 1 Noemi
Jay
I'M MAKING nachos in your toaster oven. The chips fall in the pan without a problem. Beans, evenly distributed (if I do say so myself.) Salsa- good to go. Then the cheese. Generic brand shredded cheese blend. I dangle my (washed) fingers into the zip-lock bag, grab a generous pinch and rain mild cheddar down on my gourmet meal. And I feel the tears building. "No," my conscious scolds, "you will not cry over shredded cheese." I add another pinch for flavor, then another to assert dominance. I slide the pan into the tiny oven- triumphant! But the next task breaks me. I freeze when I try to adjust the heat setting. I hear your voice so clearly, like you're still calling from the next room: "you have to press the TOAST button, it cooks much faster."  The tears start to roll. I think about how excited you were when cheese bubbled perfectly- "just a little brown, ever so slightly crispy." We would joke about your persnickety preferences, likely a product of your superior taste. Of course, you would have appreciated anything I made for you, but it was always better when the dish matched the idea in your head...when I made it like you would have made it (if you were only well enough to cook for yourself again.) In the present, I poke the TOAST button and flee the kitchen as to not cry in front of the smothered chips. I sit on the sofa and break down, gasping in childish sobs. "I miss her," I wail to an empty house. Warm tears coat my cheeks in the air-conditioned room. I feel so small. I feel so foolish for crying over ******, little things. I feel so... so... A bell dings in the kitchen. I wipe my sleeve across my face and traipse back to the toaster. Hand into oven mitt, mitt onto pan, pan onto table. I grab the plastic tubs of sour cream and guacamole from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer that sticks a little when you try to open it. I pick the non-wilted bits off the head of lettuce and rinse them under the faucet. I finish the recipe. I pull out a chair. I sit down to nachos for one.
Grief is such a strange emotion/process.

*Oh my! Thank you all so much for your support! I wrote this back in June when I needed to get it out of my head and had no idea it was chosen as a daily until I just logged back on and thought there was a glitch with my notifications number. I was slightly mortified that a piece of my mourning got exposure but after reading your comments I'm glad that I documented something many of you identified with. I've since journeyed a bit farther in my grief- slowly overcoming my initial instinct of trying to instantaneously analyze every feeling to determine whether I'm "allowed" to have it. I went to a group bereavement meeting offered by the hospital that treated the loved one in this poem and the nurse running the session made a good point- no one can fully understand another person's relationship with an individual who's passed on. Interpersonal relationships are unique and so is grieving. Being gentle with yourself (especially in times of struggle) is woefully underrated. And with that, I send love, gratitude, and positive vibes to this wonderful community
  Nov 1 Noemi
What I Feel
You're hurting. You're hurting bad.
I can see it in your bloodshot eyes
And how you shy away from smiles
Directed at you. Now your once-had
Gleaming spirit dwindles as it tries
To cut its pain with bleak exile.

But blood is pumping through your veins -
Don't change its course with nails or steel.
Our love for you will never fade, though
You ask me what I'd do if somone else took hold your reins
And replaced you, thinking that would make us feel
Happier - without you? Never. No.

I feel anger and frustration because I'm only human,
But nothing on this planet makes me happy like you can.
I love you, you know that. Believe that in yourself.
So stay with me - you'll be with me,
a heart within myself.
I love you. We all love you. Don't beat yourself up so much, or guess what we are thinking. We don't know what we'd do without you.
  Nov 1 Noemi
empty seas
the anger
pulsed
pushed
through the air

pushed
pulled
at my head

i could not leave
could not shut
it out
could not feel
fine
can’t be calm

the anger
it pulls
wraps its arms
around me
pulls itself
into that empty place
above my stomach
in my ribcage
it was them
and now
is me

they put
the anger there
placed it
by the force
of the looks
the words
the tears
the anger is
all around
you
are not
you
are never
you
will never be
you

anxiety is
not just fear
it is
primal
the rage
the fear
it wraps itself
in you
and you can only
channel it
inwards
you can only
self destruct

anxiety and anger
are two sides
of the same coin
and i
flip
between
the two
until
i stop
being
anything
at all
i flip
and i flip
somedays
it seems like
the only thing
i do
Noemi Oct 31
Don't come knocking at the door
The address has changed
              P L E A S E   S T O P
trying to find me, you will only befriend the memories I left behind
I disappeared the day you told me you think you might
              L O V E  M E
Don't speak to me of such a word.
Because love isn't a beautiful shade of red you can promise I will see.
Love is black
it's esoteric
and I'm just
hapless
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