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Cushioned against the river bank
Mud caking my bruised face
Try to push myself up on my knees
My arms buckle under the weight
And I let out a pained whimper

Checked my arms and legs for cracks
No pieces missing, just bleeding scabs
Tried to find my fractured friends
Instead found lily pads floating
And bubbles popping in the river

A figure breaks through the water
Her hair flowing around her
On hands and knees, I crawled away
Her fingers outstretched to reach
Brushing locks from my eyes

Mystified I made my way to her
A smile blossomed from her cheeks
A voice with mystified powers
Lulled me to a sense of security
Broken when she drowned me



© Sofia Villagrana 2018

You don't know her name,
That causes you to feel shame
You don't go to ask
Fear stops you in your task
Insecurities fall like dominos
When you look there's only shadows.



© Sofia Villagrana 2018

I'm dying, my friends,
but it's okay.
I'm only dying slowly.

I don't have a diagnosed illness, like you'd think,
unless you can count 'life,'
but I think some would call that thought 'blasphemous.'

I can feel the approach of the end,
stalking me on soft feet. A mere breath,
coaxing me towards the deepest sleep.

I've made my bed, so no worries, I'll lie in it.
I've fluffed the down pillows and starched the sheets,
I won't have to be afraid of dreams this time around.

I have a sense it won't be old age that does me in,
but I mightn't die young, either,
not that it really matters.

I'll take my time in this world,
but once the sand's at the bottom of the glass,
I won't look back.

Do I flirt with death? Oh yes.
I've brushed hands with him a few times.
I don't think he minds that much.

I'm dying, my friends, but it's okay.

I'm only dying slowly.

h.f.m.