Let me lie under the smell of herbs,
       flowers, and rotting sap from ancient trees.
          prepare the earthly sheets,
             with pollen that tickles the nose
               an infinite reminder of my insanity.

Let me sleep,
  under the constellation of the lion,
      majestic vast grandeur,
          an infinite reminder of a strong soul,
               forever lost and broken.

Rock me to sleep,
  with the song of buds breaking open,
    and angels that sing the song of purgatory,
       an infinite reminder,
           of  man , a sinner, a son, a product of humanity.

In the end,
  when the pills run out,
      and the world returns to normalcy,
         with one less miserable soul,
             take a note,
                 that I am happy,
                         free ⓞη𝓬𝐞 ᵐ๏Ř乇

On a long and ugly forgotten beach,
  I curse and mock the sun, that bears witness to your lies,
I hear the waves, a figment of imagination,
     raging under my own decrepitly mental state.
Before the song of my nirvana,
    I curse the mother, and its womb,
        that brought perfection under the moon.
& within all this insanity,
    I curse you,
        loathe you,
           for in you,
              I see me,
                 foolish,
                    young,
                       in love,
                           βŘ𝐨𝓀𝓔𝐧

If I rip apart your perfect veneer,
   Disembowel its beauty,
      behind the peering darkness,
          lies a garden, with a fountain of lust
              for all you are,
                  all you will be,
                     is an imaginary object,
                          that is all you give,
                               all I get,
                                  want,
                        ­              & [̲̅N][̲̅e][̲̅e][̲̅d].

Your song enamors,
   every essence
      speech,
      taste,
      sound,
       sight.
Such a rarity,
   beauty that does not fade at any hour.

But, every dark circle beneath such ardent eyes,
fail to hide the black abyss of pain, wanting and belonging,
   for left as shells, I lost the fight,
      I am just another beautiful fool
           enamored,
               loving,
                  wanting,
                     yearning,
                       in the intricate web of lies,
                           so beautifully spun,
                             to think I am the only ❁𝓃𝑒

Smallness is not decided by others,
   it is not preordained fate,
    under the endless bastion of the fathers heaven,
         it is what YOU see in yourself,
              what YOU say about yourself,
                    what YOU think is acceptable
                        what YOU allow of others
                               It is 𝓎Ｏυ. . .

skin does not define us. . .
  yet I was born two shades darker,
    the world decided,
       that credit is lopsided,
          that crime is not misguided
             & that inclusion is adequality provided
                therefore, exclusion is justified.

skin defines us,
  keeps us divided
     shows "true" colors
         I should be angry?
            but I feel ashamed.
               not of color,
                 but of the human ЯΛᄃΣ

Corks off,
  and the night has just begun
    insecurities dissipate,
        glass after glass,
            think of you my dear friend,

two boys,
  a love of soccer,
    kicking and screaming
      under the burning desert breeze.

Two teens,
      with problems larger than the world,
          one cool,
             the other forgotten,
                 yet you stayed,
                     and I ****** again.

Eighteen,
    I found him,
        rubbed it in your face,
            yet you stayed

Twenty three,
    he left,
      I cried,
        you picked me up,
          after each glass
            only to find beration and condemnation.
              you stayed
                 I left. . .

Twenty Six
  one last puff,
      one last drink
         only to retrace my steps
           "I'm sorry"
              silence
                I love my only friend.

please don't leave me
I need you
I need you
please f̶o̶r̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶

callused, dry , rough
    ugly. . .
      They smelled of sweat and grease,
           blue stained ***** finger nails
              a beautiful reminder
of all you do for me. . .
       his hand are minder of a life,
                a home,
                    & warmth.

Ugly is me,
  a reminder of how heartless
     and appreciative I can be.
          for each scar, is a reminder of sacrifice and love,
               ever so undeserved.

-ₕₐₙdₛ

You were the most beautiful thing,
  behind a icy can of coke on a warm aired summer day.
      Love at first sight,
        until you spoke.

-ᴄᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴋᴇ

We are taught not to envy others.
   but I am a failure at life, a sacrilegious romantic fool.
I envy every second of the hand you hold,
so unaware as you gaze at your phone.
  Envy the seconds you sit together for a meal,
     ignoring one another.
        Envy when you sleep together,
           only to cheat together.

I envy others,
  my eyes fill with hate,
    for they serve as a mirror,
      in them I see me.
          . . .I'm s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ . . .

I am the product,
  of a lover who could not love,
    a poet who could not write,
       people who could not live,
          a human who was inhumane.

I am a product,
   made. . .
      fake. . .
       & his greatest mistake. . .

-ⓟⓡⓞⓓⓤⓒⓣ

"why do you always cry"

maybe. .  just maybe. .
I am an emotional wreck,
  who cried on the bathroom floor,
    for love and loss and turned into a fragile core.


maybe. . just maybe. .
  earth is my purgatory,
    an endless mirage of torment and misery
      that is deserved for when I chose you,
        I left him.
          and the words I said to him,
             " I love you"
                 became . . .
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕

December 24th, 2020

Sweet love, sweet friend.
  I promised to never love again until the end,
   for I was unsure I could trust. . .
    smell of burnt pine, and ice cold December air,
      a reminder of your ever warm embrace.

Sweet love, sweet friend,
I failed to love you to the end.
for I am starting to love again,
my heart and I are in a constant fight.
for I yearn for your love,
But I found a man whose breaking my walls.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
  I am terrified to love again,
    I am forever yours,
      heart,
      body,
      and soul which weeps for you.
  his love which has bound me in chains.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend,
   I feel guilty,
     I want to stop my breath,
        to feel your touch,
           your embrace,
             to hear your voice,
               & smell your skin.
                 I am terrified to love again,
                      scared I was your greatest mistake.


Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
   until we meet again. . .
      but I will try and take the - 🆁🅸🆂🅺

Take me back to a time,
      when La Divina blessed the stage,
          when the horrors of war did not exist,
                when man only knew love and not hate,
                     when imaginary lines did not divide us,
  when religion and race did not exist.
        take me back before the creation of constructs,


Please take me.

-ⓣⓐⓚⓔ ⓜⓔ

I am a giver,
    a hopeless romantic,
       who gives happiness,
             what no one has given to me.
yet, they call me crazed, and deranged.
I can be the smartest person in the world,
      all it takes, is for one person to say "you are insane"
          then comes the doubt,
               the self hate,
                    self loathe,
                       and finally the loss of myself.
but I am a giver,
  a hopeless dreamer,
       who wishes for happiness,
           when none exists in an endless cycle,
               that never ceases to exist.

-🅶🅸🆅🅴🆁

8th of August 2012

My dear sweet friend,
my heart should be raging unrelenting, but its full of tepid waves.
   I feel listless as in endless sleep in my mothers womb,
      and yet I ask why?
          self-sacrifice met with betrayal.
a heart so broken,
the very essence of my soul weeps.
    I lay, ever so wide-awake, the silent darkness,
        a reminder, I am alone.

So why my sweet friend,
     do I not curse them,
        wish ill will,
               bad health,
                  or even death?

for when did I become weak. . .

▌│█║▌║▌║ ฬεά𝐤 ║▌║▌║█│▌

Dear Love,

The day of sweet encounter is coming,
  my heart beats in excitement,
     I hear the noise of their tears like rain on midsummer eve,
         and yet sadness does not overtake me,
               I yearn for the love under a desert breeze,
                   a love that blossomed,
                        a love that shattered,
                           death took you from me,
and yet all I can ask is do you still want me?
My love, I am yours,
they cry for me, beg me to stay,
   but I welcome death,
       and his cold embrace
            for until we meet again.


𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎

I love you body and soul,
graced by the heavens to find you,
to have us together is my nirvana.
I am too proud to admit,
you are
my breath. .
my brain. . .
the tenderness. . .
my heart . . .
please, oh please.
by gods grace keep us united,
for I yearn for your love and respect.
Hear my plea, for its not a child's plea.,
but filled with sentiment from our youth.
promise to be tender
to love, and give affection.
I am yours to do as you will,
I am yours to break at your will
so please love me.

Your soul,
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽

it's so easy to love someone,
when that person does not love you,
   He will mock you,
        He will use you,
            He will leave you disgusted,
              & broken too.
                But, its so easy to love him.

It's so hard to love someone,
  when that person loves you.
    He will cherish you,
        He will support you,
          He will leave you happy,
            & ecstatic too.
               But, yet its so hard to love him.

-ʍąʂօçհìʂէ

When your heart turns blue,
  remember our moment under the ugly tree,
    turn tears into smiles,
       when your heart is weary of misery ,
            turn to me. . .
                let me hold hold those feelings of melancholy.

-Ⓣ𝓊尺ᑎ 𝕋𝑜 м𝒆

Take my lips, and stain them.
Take my arms, and hold them,
Take my heart, and break it.
Take my eyes, so they can see,

Take my hips, and move them.
Take my legs, dance with them.

Better yet. . .

Take my soul, into yours.
   So we can dance in a state of purgatory
      in endless bliss, take me. . .

-T͓̽a͓̽k͓̽e͓̽ ͓̽m͓̽e͓̽

Perfect overhanging telephone cable shoes,
mocking under a desert breeze,
   torn ***** chucks that leave their mark,
           on a dark tapestry full of imagination.

Counting pennies in a stream,
children hypnotized by lovely tunes,
   desperately trying to buy scribblers for they come in two,
      two beautiful pops of multiple hues,
          dancing in synchrony,
                only to be ripped part,
                   under the desert breeze.

you were my scribbler. . .
  such a sweet memory,
     of two souls in a romantic setting,
           if only I had known,
                 I would say goodbye. . .

-ѕ¢яιввℓєя

Every second I wished you dead,
after you touched me,
each stroke
reducing me
. . . human. . .
. . . animal. .  .
. . . worthless . . .

you died,
at the funeral,
  I did not cry,
but I did not want you to rot,
I did not want you to burn,
I did not want to shout from the pew,
I was worthless,
at that time I was five,
but now I am fine,
I guess this feeling
is forgiveness not for you
but for me.


↫↫↫↫↫ ＦㄖяⓖⓘＶє𝐧ᵉŜＳ ↬↬↬↬↬

Elegant,
     polished,
              refined,
                  a mother used to say
                                   "be like marble"

but like marble I am porous,
  so easily cracked,
      broken,
        chipped
            scratched.
              each injury a reminder of  my weakness.


Like Marble,
  age becomes endemic of problem unspoken,
      I am replaced,
           for I am weak,
              broken and cracked.

"Mother I am like marble"

-мαявℓє

Fiery mysterious exchanges of passion and pings,
an undiluted heart,
ever wondering, wanting, yearning, for more.
Unrelenting words that arrive in seconds. . .

Ordinary texts to incite conversation,
with invitations to serve as reassurance,
a heart that dwindles but still cares,
words that arrive in minutes. . .

Mundane routine,
eyes that barley peek,
ears that barley perk,
words that barley flow in hours.

Uninteresting,
forgotten memories,
ever so distant, ever so close, but ever unwanted.
and words that lay unread. . .


-ᵤₙᵣₑₐd

Green,
  mesmerizing deep green,
    waves of endless emotion,
      freckles,
         sweet marks of perfection.
"hi"
   one word
     tainted
          yellow
             impure
                love
                  at 5.

-ιɱρυɾҽ

Fairytale's do not exist,
  you will not awake from a grown mans kiss,
     he will swipe right, kiss you at night, and be gone the next day.

Fairy godmother will not free you,
   you will be bound the corporate overload that pays you,
     they will use you and abuse you, until you are discarded.

No one will climb your hair,
  you will fade into obscurity,
     a figment of a "friendship" that once existed


and even then
   in the face of reality
      I still believe people are good at heart.

-Gₒₒd ₐₜ ₕₑₐᵣₜ

Jealous filled eyes,
     walls that spoke,
         they took my career,
              made me rethink my life,
                      "was it worth it"
                        "am I worth it"
unanswered questions,
  piece by piece,
    the wolves of my own unrelating depredation
      left pieces of a foolish kind soul,
but a shattered heart
    can be taped
       over and over again
            so I say  " I am me"
                with pride.

d̶̮͎̐̔̏ë̸̢̢̤͎́ṕ̵̢͚̘̟̝̣͓̰̤̺͂̎͊͝ṛ̴̨̃̆̾ȩ̷͈̳̐̚d̷͉͍̯̃͋̔ͅa̶͛̌́̿̃͊̍­̢̻̥̻͎̲́̈́́ṭ̵̡̰̻͎̤̦̫̯̀̐̽̽͜į̸̱͉̖̱̯̹̹̱̓̒̂̐̔̂̿̎͋̚o̸̡͎̙̖̯̣̯̺̬͗̍͊̄̎̇n̶­̩̝̼͛̌

Sweet love,
old aesthete flame
  under a frozen autumn breeze
     I learned how to trust

  Warm inure flickering flame,
      I grow terrified,
         I opened up,
            and now there is an "us"

Sweet flame,
squeeze me tight,
   hold me tonight,
      bind me to your warmth.

Frozen Autumn breeze,
    listless flame extinguished,
          my heart is buried in dust,
             two heartbeats diverge into one.

Terrified once more,
    alone,
      & bound to you. . .

-𝐵𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

It takes two pillars
  to build a foundation.
    as one rots and decays,
     the other cracks, bends, creaks and cries.
Then we have one. . .
  longing for support,
     only to find the world avoids the "broken" foundations.

-
b̵̪͈̙͚̪̞̗̱̅͒͘r̴̡̝̻̫͙̺̮̟̾͊̅̋̅̄͘̚͜͝ͅọ̴̲̓̈́̃̎̓ǩ̴̫̟͕̲͔̂̽̏͛͜͜͝e̵̋̎̔͠­̮̼͐͜ǹ̶̤̖̲̭̘̿́ ̴̨͖͇͍̦̯̤̐̅͋͘͘͜f̵̜̜͕͔̫̹̫̹̎̾̅͌͊̕͝ͅò̶̲̻̣̑͋͗̃͒̒̍̄ủ̵̮̪͍̼̳͔̗͉́̃̓n̶̦͘͜­̮̦̝̻̱͜d̶̫̲͒͌ā̴̡̛̭̭͘t̴̡̳̪̯̖̣͗̿͛̄̍̌͝ͅi̶̲͑̅ơ̶̮͇̼̹͜n̴̢̢̤̭̜̹̙̹͓̆̔ŝ̵­̢̛̙͙̗͗́̽͗̕̚

I traveled the world,
       got three degrees,
         with a fancy title to not skip the beat,
yet I long for yesterday. . .
   not a dollar to our name,
       a 99 cent burger and a coke was our tiramisu,
        full of sweaty palms that gripped reassurance.

what a cruel game life plays. . .
  I'd give up everything to my name,
     only to be laughed, scoffed, and told
           to give up the stars. . .
                in this never ending cruel fate.

I'd give up my life to see those ardent eyes,
  only to be reminded of the coward I am
     not able to let go
         & be with you once more. . .

Forgive me lover,
as I pen this regret. . .

-ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ

Sweet troubles of melancholy far removed,
     Ardent blight tattered heart,
        whimsical memories of yesterday. . .
           two young souls which loved and played,
              broken heartbeats in perfect synchrony,
                  old cigars and 3 a.m. faded masks,
                         you begged me to stay.
                               longed for love,
                                         but loathed your touch. . .
                                     when did I stray?

-Stray

Growing up a pirinola was gold,
  watching it in spin ,was elation on earth.
        Seasons pass and an adult is measured by his worth,
             Cars,
                 homes,
                    dollar signs,
looking back I was fine,
     I was richer then,
         and poorer now.
        

-PӨӨЯ

I used to find shame,
   in the great staple food of the tamale,
      drinking poor atole,
          and presenting a plate of mole to our guest,


I used to find shame,
   being the son of two "aliens"
        how it plagued me. . .

but like Jarabe Tapatío dancers,
  I found pride,
        in our dances,
            in our culture,
               in my family.
                   for it is me,
                       I am me.
                         I am proud. . .

-ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

Forgive me for my anger idealistic fools,
  advocating for equality for all ( but only for some)  
    while our people are pinned by the rage of distant past,
       the trusting Campeche a warrior of great who opened his heart,
         while his body defiled for human greed.

Where is equality when our mother weeps,
   for the land of blood, pillage and ****,
   where is equality for the children murdered by plague and disease?
     When our heritage becomes an attraction written on the marquee

when do we weep,
   for my people,
      who opened their heart
  only to find torment and hate.

-ɪɴᴅɪɢᴇɴᴏᴜꜱ ʀᴀᴘᴇ

Heed my call,
  within the state of unutterable purgatory
     weight of damnation,
           demonic sins dance by ardent flame
                  in synchrony on a brittle back. . .

Alone,
   echo's reverberate
       from the night sky,
          tears stream the very essence of the soul itself
              longing for intoxicating paradise so out of reach

Take my hand,
   pull me out
     of the raging mental sea,
       cleanse and purify a damaged soul,
          hear me, see me, choose me
              please . . .
                     please . . .
                        save me from the world living in apathy,
                          let me find elation. . .



-ΣᄂΛƬIӨП

when he asks
   to still be friends
      remember the strong take pity on the weak,
        the lion hunts the prey,
            if the lion bites,
                it will bite again.
- ㄥ𝒾σ𝓝

the irony of life,
we come from dust and bone,
     only to die from bone to dust.
in a shared cycle.

-IᖇOᑎY

Among a sea of weeds,
be a rose,
elegant,
  beautiful,
      timeless,


- ᖇOᔕE

"Hello"
   passionate kisses,
       grinding denim,
    ardent flames ignited by red sultry lips,
kiss me,
love me,
touch me,

"May I please get my coffee"

ʷⁱⁿᵏ

Begged on the knees with no lack of humiliation,
   cried and yells of indignity
        looking up I saw your face
                 - mortification.

please don't leave.
     please fix me.
           find the faults,
                 fix the cracks,
                   patch the crumbling walls,

I said "please fix me"
  only to hear  "you need to fix yourself"
    

-ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛꜱ ᴍᴇ

Take my heart,
        hold my hands,
unspoken words,
  revealed by sweat.

Take the risk,
run with me,
   let us build a white picket fence,
to be watched from a big porch.

So try,
   touch every inch,
feel my heat,
   forget the fear
put our song on ,
  dance with me,
      like two uncoordinated fools.
let my heart guide you home,
        let my voice be your guide,
-Dreamers

I learned to hate. . .
  When he came in during the night,
      his hands caressed untainted skin,

I learned to hate myself. . .
   When I ponder and recall that I never screamed,
      not even a sound,
          was it love?
              was it fear?

I learned to shut the world out. . .
    When I looked at men and knew I was different,
           when I was told I was wrong,
                to my very existence.
                    
I learned to love. . .
   When I saw your smile,
            longed for your touch,
                when our two eyes met. . .

I learned to live. . .
  when two heartbeats turned to one,
      when my world crashed down,
            when my pillar fell,
                  when I screamed at the top of my lungs
                        only to find myself alone.

- Learned

Firm calloused hands,
  tell the tale of many struggles,
     beatings, ****, child marriage. . .

Firm calloused hands,
  unflattering,
               tattered,
                  beaten by age,
Tell the tale of a women's struggle,
    feeding 12 kids, drunk husband, alone. . .


Machismo. . .
    does it make you man?
       Please take a page from those firm calloused hands. . .

Poetic ineptitude,
Stolen words, are not just words.
    Each word is a moment,
         Each minute a moment of longing, touch and smell.
            Each sense is the tale of a past lover, friend and family. . .

words without substance,
      are just words. . .

- 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮

What
         if
            you
                   knew
                         the
                            silence
                    of
                       a
                       dial
                            tone

What
   if
    you
      starred
                 at
                     the  
                      phone
                        waiting
                                  for
                       the
                            ping
                                 that
                                     never
                                           came

Leaving you to wonder and wander
  dread, anger, anguish overtake you
     for the thrill of it all
in the solitude of the moment. . .
      

I hope "you" was not "me"