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Francisco III Nov 2018
so hold your chin
up high until the tears
go back so far
it remembers the first time
the very first of them fell
for a girl who wasn't worth
crying about.

pick the very broken pieces of you up
and hug them gingerly like puzzle pieces
waiting to be finished by
someone who deserves all of you
someone who will stick around
to see the whole of who
you truly are

go back to those places
where your lips spent more time together
than apart and promise yourself this
is not how the story has to end
with regret and shame and sadness
and anger
promise yourself you will learn to separate
the place from
the girl your dreams have made
their queen


but no matter how hard
you try there will always be
bits and pieces
of you in her
and you will never be
made whole again.
Francisco III May 2017
darling,
I was right.

You will always be in love.

You will always find love with galaxies in your eyes, you will always have that extra hop in your step, you will always flash that smile worth killing for.

You were always, always in love.


Just not with me.
Never with me.
Francisco III Jun 11
The best part(s) about living in a house on the beach:

Sand is everywhere. You see it on your dilapidated bay walk you built the week after you moved in. It's in your shoes, your shirt, sand is everywhere.

You'd hear the rhythm of the ocean in the middle of the night, waves knocking like lullabies that were clearly meant to keep you awake but failed. You smell and taste salty mist in your mouth whenever you'd strut outside every single day for the past 3 years. It's unlimited sand castles and sand kingdoms.

You'd see how the moon lends it light to the sea, creating a white walkway on the dark waters whenever you stay up late simply because you couldn't sleep, and in the morning you'd see a canvass of colors as mother sun claims her domain, showing off shades of pink, orange and yellow scarves, God, I love living by the sea.

Most of all, you love waking up to the sound of her footsteps, how she'd open all the windows, let light into the room and sing goodmorning. You love the way she runs to that old bay walk and sits down, you love the way she dangles her feet and tease the waters with her touch. You love the fact that this is, has been, and will always be your dream. You and her.

Life often feels like that, but trust me, life finds a way to ***** things up. A balance, if you will.

You see, when someone tells you they live by the sea, it isn't all that perfect.

No one tells you about the first time it rained so hard, the waters caved around, under and above your home that it shook. No one tells you how often the waves are loud and menacing, you dream about how they loom over your home, or how unnaturally silent they are that you can't fall asleep without them whispering in your ears, singing to you in their rhythm.

No one tells you about the time some people get left behind with their dreams.

That of the two names carved on that bay walk, only one person was cursed to sit there and remember.
No one tells you about the time she slowly became sick of the sea and talked about moving back to the city. No one tells you about the time she took off in the middle of the night and you pretended to be asleep. No one tells you about the first time you opened your windows in the morning, felt the color was more grey than orange, and your mouth tasted like her strawberry flavored lip gloss even though you only smell salt.

It's writing both your names in sand and leaving them to get swept by the sea or blown by the wind. It's crying as you skinny dip so the sea can take away your sadness. It's shouting while the waves roar. It's sand everywhere. Sand and sea she left you.

Sad how there's been more storms in your heart and rain in your eyes than outside your home these past years.
I miss free writing
Francisco III Nov 2017
if jealousy was a kid
he'd be living inside my heart
breaking windows
and slamming
doors
just to remind me
that he is wild
and he exists.
heeeey
Francisco III Oct 2018
You just know.

No one tells you about the first time you open the windows and see how her eyes seem more grey than blue.
Francisco III Oct 2017
i am not supposed to write about
how you crawled under my skin at 2am
bringing with you empty promises and
leaving me with nothing but a broken heart

but i am. i still am.
Hi, hello poetry.
Francisco III Jun 11
when it gets really quiet at night, I listen to my heartbeat and it almost sounds like the sound of your footsteps outside my door

I wait for the knock until I fall asleep
Francisco III May 2018
"I still see her around, and yes we often have lunch together. It doesn't really matter whether we still have feelings for each other. Sometimes, special people stay in your life for reasons other than love."
:(
Francisco III Sep 2018
because loving you was like understanding that man can feel both anger and desperation at the same time

and being with you means being in constant wait for the moment where all this would be worth the **** wait
9/2/18. still alive
Francisco III Jun 2016
poetry lets go
what
the body
can no
longer hold.
Hi. :)
You
Francisco III May 2016
You
i hate the way you hurt me so much
that everything i say becomes a poem
filled with hurt and longing

— The End —