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Rachel Mena May 2014
I miss some of you
I miss the first date you
With sweaty hands
And nervous laughter
I miss the are you cold? you
Your comfy coat that smells like you
And arm around my shoulder
I miss the prom night you
With your unshaking gaze
And dancing all night
I miss the mission trip you
The ever praising, ever loving
God gave me you you
I miss the lets take a walk you
With the honest talks and
Tears from both of our eyes
I miss the lake picnic you
The only you that I could open up to you
The let’s wear pajamas and funny hats to the movie theatre you
The  drive my jeep you
The poem writing you
The hand holding you
The hugging you
The nose kisses you
And the honest you
I miss some of you
I miss what I thought of you
But if I had known
The honest you was not an honest you
And the I love you repeating
Over and over you
Were not true
Maybe I would miss all of you
Rachel Mena May 2014
Ignorance
is pure bliss
When on my lips
you plant a kiss

*(And I do not know where your mouth has been)
Rachel Mena Apr 2014
The greatest misconception
of poetry
is thinking
the poet
means something more
than what they said.
Rachel Mena Apr 2014
There are
              no more poems
                                         I have written
                              for *you
Rachel Mena Apr 2014
She was far away
In some distant land
In her head
One only she had the
Endurance to navigate
I am an artist of geography.
She would tell me
On the days
She was deeper in
The jungle of her mind
Than she usually was

But I wanted to save her
So I sent out
A search team
To find someone
Who was not really lost
Either way nobody
Could find
This girl.

One day
Years later
There was a knock
On my door
I still have not
Reached the pacific,
I am trying
To find the limits
Of this land
In my head
But I have yet
To find the coast.
I am trying
To make a map
Of my mind
And when I do
I will paint you a copy.


But you are limitless
I wanted to tell her
no map could encompass
the capacity of sheer beauty
that your mind is

But instead
I watched
And I let
Her walk back
Into the jungle
Rachel Mena Apr 2014
Do not allow
yourself         to be
a product
                              of your generation
but rather
let your generation
be
    a product        
                   of you
Rachel Mena Apr 2014
I don’t know why
but I get a feeling
in my chest
that it's coming
that something bad
is coming
and
I feel it
caving in on me
invisible
and the air is heavy
and I can not breath
but it’s coming
and
I can’t see the pain
that is coming
but I feel it
all the hurt
it's coming
I don’t know
why
or who
or when
or what
or what on earth
will happen
if
I wait
for this thing
to come
and take
my final breath
and
take me to my death
and
take me far away
this thing
I know
it’s coming
but
I don’t know
how to stop
and
breathe
breathe
breathe
its coming
its coming
its coming
it's here
it's here
it's here
the air
is gone
I
cannot
breath
it's here
the thing
is
here
and
I
do
not
I
cannot
move
or
breathe
it
has
me
it
has
me
*it has me
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