It's because I care, not
because I give a ****.

Lee su cuaderno.
Ve un video sin relación.
Tararea lo que debió decir,
busca anotaciones al azar.

Entra...
Se detiene, la observa:
cada mínimo movimiento,
queriendo mirar directo a los ojos.

Lo hace de vez en cuando.
¿No llama la atención...?
Ve los colores en la hoja,
los relaciona, entretejiéndolos en la mente.

Palabra tras palabra,
solo atento a su voz delicada,
al ruido de al lado,
son pequeñas intervenciones.

Se va...
Recuerda algo.
Pinta de rosado
algo que detuvo, ya que...
ella entró.

Do the flowers mourn when one is picked?
I know that question is kinda morbid and sick.
But I’ve always wondered if they somehow know,
Like for weddings and birthdays that it’s their time to go?

Do they feel sorry for lovestruck dames,
That pull off petals whilst saying their crushes’ names,
That pulled the last petal on “He loves me not”?
Do they feel bad that she’s distraught?

Do they compete on who’s the prettiest?
Each person has an opinion of which flower is the best,
Of their looks are they actually aware,
Do flowers even care?

Deberia saber
Que me dejaras

No mas para que ves
Te la estas buscando

Hacimos pareja
Pero te vi alla

Mucho para aguantar
Tu eras mi vida
Pero  la vida no es justo

Era estupida para amar te?
Era tonta ayudar te?
Era ovio a todo lo de mas?

Me calli por tu mentira
Tu nunca me querias

Engañame una y doz veces
Voy a morir en un paradiso

Tu nunca me vas a ver llorar
No hay tiempo a morir

Lo deje quemar
Tu no eres mi preocupacion

Fantasmas de mi pasado regresan
Otro leccion para aprender

Tu nunca me vas a ver llorar
No hay tiempo a morir



© Sofia Villagrana 2020

A poet once said:
grief is the overflowing of love.
I didn't believe her then.

But now as I pour my love,
In to your tea cup heart,
It overflows.

Pints... no,
Gallons.
Gallons of my love onto the floor.
It goes unnoticed,
Because your cup is full.

I wish I could give you all my love.
I wish you could accept it.
I wish it didn't hurt to watch it overflow.
I wish above all,
I knew how to stop pouring.

In shadows where two hearts entwine,  
A dance begins with fate’s design.  
She loves him like the summer sun,  
Yet he’s entranced by another one.  

A glance exchanged beneath the trees,  
Whispers carried on a balmy breeze.  
Her laughter sparkles in his eyes,  
While dreams of her friend ignite the skies.  

Oh tangled web of tender woe,  
Where passion's fire and heartache grow.  
Two souls adrift in currents wild,  
Each lost within their fervent masked smile.  

He walks a line both thin and frail;  
Between fierce love and a bitter tale.    
One holds his heart in open hands —    
The other charms with distant lands.    

At dusk they meet under twilight's veil,    
Three silhouettes telling secrets pale;    
With unspoken words that cling to air—    
Their silent cries weigh heavy there.

Who will remain when dawn breaks clear?
And which sweet song will fade from ear?  
For love can bloom but also betray;      
As seasons shift and hearts decay.

Each moment etched in time's cruel flow—    
Twilight trembles as truth must show:      
Will triangles cease or deeper bind?        
In whispered dreams their fates aligned.

So here they stand at crossroads bend—      
Lovers caught where paths descend;        
An echo waits for softer sighs -            
Such is love—with its bittersweet ties.