my name is gabriela
but most days
i don’t fit in these eight letters
some days
my name is poetry
my name is flower
my name is wild curls
my name is i am so filled with joy
that if i were a cloud it would rain for years
and some days
my name is sadness
my name is hello, love, come find me because i am tired of looking for you
my name is ocean
my name is feelings i have no words for
my name is the songs that make me cry
my name is when do i get a turn
but most days
my name is gaby
my name is the sweetness of these four letters
my name is honey and cinnamon and coffee
my name is gabriela

i thought i'd have more to write about this
but i've got nothing
this whole summer i've been nothing

if anything makes it to autumn,
please let my plants live

i’ll live in a yellow house
painted by the sun itself
a house that stands on the corner of
Joy Street and Sunshine Avenue
and in my house a garden will grow
with flowers watered with hope, rooted in love.
my yellow house will be the talk of the town
and children will come on their bikes
to meet the woman that keeps flowers in her hair
and a few stars in her eyes,
the woman that wears dresses with pockets
filled with honey and cinnamon.

I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.

do not fear the rain when it comes
and do not fear when it goes away
don’t be afraid of the waiting
don’t be afraid of the tears
when they decide to fall
don’t be afraid to feel
to wallow in the grief.
let yourself pause.
listen to your heart.
gardens don’t grow in a day.

i want to cry until i become an ocean
until the rivers of salt tears wash me clean
i want to be free
and i don’t want to feel so alone
i want to untangle the knot in my throat
i want flowers to live on the edges of my soul
i want to fall in love
with a pair of eyes
that fall in love with mine
and i don’t want to feel so alone
so unworthy of love
and i want a song
a song for me
and i want to breathe without it hurting
i don’t want love to feel
so far away
i want rain to fall and wash away the pain
and i want the words
for everything i am feeling
and i don’t want to feel so alone
i want poetry written for me,
love letters and late-night texts
and i don’t want to feel so alone

if you ever read a poem
i hope you read me.
i hope you find the poetry
that hides in my body,
my rhyming eyes, my dancing feet,
the curve in my lips,
the cinnamon of my skin.
if you ever read a poem
i hope you read me,
i hope you read the words
written on my skin,
how my eyes spell out the word
'light'
and how my hands speak of art
and my heart sings words like
bravery and hope
and if you ever read a poem
i hope it's me.

you asked me to describe you,
and i found myself at a loss
for words
(which doesn’t happen very often;
words usually pour out of me
like water from a fountain).
you mean the entire ******* world to me,
how do i put that into words?
how do i put you into words?

you're the literal light of my life:
you’re a ray of sunshine,
a respite from the constant thunder and rain
that seems to follow me around no matter where i go.
you pour constant love and warmth into me,
so much so that
even on the gloomiest of days,
i feel happy and okay.

you’re my inspiration;
i look up to you in every possible way.
you make me want to be a better person,
show me what that could be like.

you are soft and gentle and kind.
you’re the feeling of coming home
of watching a movie under the blankets
with a cup of hot cocoa
of finding something that you thought you had lost,
and the relief because
you couldn’t imagine living
without something so amazing.
you’re the feeling of safety and security,
of knowing that everything’s going to be okay,
of opening a new book and becoming immersed
in an entirely new world, something you never could’ve dreamt up.

you’re the feeling i get when my favorite song comes on,
shouting the lyrics and knowing i’m off-key but not caring.

you remind me what it’s like to feel alive,
what it’s like to feel human
(and how can i put that into words?)