Your freckles remind me of the beautiful constellations.
Connecting to paint lovely portraits in the
midnight sky. Telling stories as the nights grow deep.

12:03 am and people are outside staring up at the sky,
wondering why things are going wrong.
And then they see your stars shining bright;
Giving them hope and lighting up the dark.

I was black
and you were blue
you touched me and suddenly
I was the midnight sky
and you decided
twilight wasn't for you

Run, hide, cover your eyes,
Won't you play the game?
One, two, three, four,
Don't you try to peek.

Listen hard, in the dark,
Five, six, seven,
Listen for the screams of fear,
The rumbling of the earth.

Feel the world crashing down,
Eight, nine, and ten,
The concrete crumbling into dust,
The crushing of the bones.

Breathe it in, breathe it clear,
Eleven, twelve, thirteen,
The smell of fire and smoldering embers,
Dangerously near.

Open your mouth, let it free,
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen,
Let the shrieks of pain and sadness,
Rip away from your throat.

Don't uncover your eyes,
Keep your hands over your face,
*"It will protect you my dear,
From the anxiety and the fear."

but
     I
      want
               to
                 sin
                     on
                         every
                                  inch
                                        of
                                           your
                                                 body.

“I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak
And then **** my ex girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up in our conversations.
I’m going to be honest, I’m not really a love poet
In fact, every time I try to write about love my hands cramp… just to show me how painful love can be.
And sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little more work than you planned
See I heard that love is blind so, I write all my poems in Braille
And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless.
I always believed that real love is kind of like a super model before she’s air brushed;
It’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended.
See I’m going to be honest, I’m not a love poet
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love I swear that my first poem…
It would be about you.
About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared
But reckless with no training wheels or elbow pads so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.
You see, I’m not really a love poet
But if I was I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window
You see I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow maybe someway you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me
Because if you were here, right now
I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words to.

Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name and you smile like the Pacific ocean
I want to drink the sunlight in your skin.
If I was a love poet
I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful
Even on days when everything around you is ugly
You see I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.

If I was a love poet
I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture
Every time I hear the vibration in your voice so whenever I see your name on the caller ID my heart
It plays hop scotch inside of my chest.
Yo it climbs on to my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again.
I know this sounds strange but every now and then I pray that God somehow turns you back into one of my ribs…
Just so that I would never have to spend an entire day without you.

I swear, I’m not a love poet
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love
My first poem it would be about you
And after all of that she was like, so how do you feel about me?
And I said, put it like this:
I want to be your ex boyfriend’s stunt man. I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do like… trust you.

I swear that when our lips touch I can taste the next sixty years of my life.
And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just so you can be a part of me for a little bit longer.
If I could I would sample your smile and then I would let my heart beat
Do the bass line, we would create the greatest love song of all time
Whenever, we stand next to each other, love I was the only one made for you and you can be at last my Etta James
I’ll be oh child when you’re in pain or you could be candy coated drops of rain
Even though it never rains in Southern California
And together, we could be music.

And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend
I’ll say no.
She is my musician
And me… I’m her favorite song.”


-by Rudy Francisco

We are the lost lovers who wander
the great walls of this world;
in pursuit of the love that only navigators
can have in their very own hands.

And we go in endless circles while
endlessly hoping of being home
to someone we'll ever know but
our fate only does.

The roads have turned to deserts
and the life is starting to wither;
you are her oasis--her savior from dispair;
though you are nowhere to be found in the middle of the death fair.

You are one of the likes of her --
young, tired, lost, and long gone
from the lovers' lane you once belonged;
and you're alone, wandering to wonder.

May you both find your ways
through this garden of all-or-nothing;
and may you find dandelions
than a rose in a field of thorns.

I expected much, you know, the usual right?
But turns out that message, ruined my birthday,
even if it was before my birthday, it was seven minutes before it.

Usually I hate my birthday, but, not having you,
not seeing you on that day, not having you by my side, it just, made
the day I hate the most of the year became worse.

Oh dear, why did you even show me that song?
Because actually, it does turn out that I need you much more than you need me.

Your birthday gift wasn't that tee shirt you left me,
but the loneliness and broken promises you left behind, how you left
me behind.

Still, I adore you.

the thing about a
bad record on repeat is
after a while you start
to like it.