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April Lorenzo May 2015
And then I realized
that we never stayed up
until 4am
when conversations were true
and words were sincere.
We were awake enough
to lie
and too drunk
with fallacy
to last
til 4am.
April Lorenzo May 2015
And as I watched her lecture me
on love and loss and all that's in between
I couldn't hear her.
I couldn't understand.
Because I knew, she was talking
to herself more than me.
For my love and loss and
all that's in between
Reminded her of what she's forgotten;
Of who she's loved
Of what she's lost
and all that's in between.
April Lorenzo Jul 2015
When someone
tells you
"you are breathing,"
you find yourself
peeved
because now you
are aware
and are
consciously
taking a breath.

I look at you
and without saying
a word, I am told
"you are breathing."
I find myself
saved
because now I
am aware
and am
breathing again.
This is what it feels like when you /tell me you/ love me.
April Lorenzo May 2015
Un, deux, trois
Je peux voir la lune ce soir.
Les étoiles: un, deux, trois.
Je ne peux pas compter
le bouquet des étoiles.

Voilà, ils sont infinis.

Le temps va arrêter,
maintenant, cette heure, cette seconde
avec moins des personnes.
Le moment ne terminera pas.

Voilà, il est infini.

Finalement, les étoiles, je peux compter.
Un, deux. Seulement deux.
Tes yeux, mes étoiles.

Voilà, tu es infini.

J'ai le coup de foudre pour toi,
sous le ciel ce soir.
Un, deux, trois,
Tu as le coup de foudre pour moi.

Voilà, nous sommes infinis.
I wrote this poem for a class requirement and it got selected for « Printemps des Poètes 2013 » organized by l'Alliance française de Manille. You can go use google translate. It's actually decent if you traslate it there except for the last stanza. You'll get the gist of it tho. But if you want the legitimate translation, message me.
April Lorenzo Sep 2015
i matter the most
you said so
yourself
and yet
i matter second
when other
things concern
yourself

i understand
i know i'm not
the only thing you
think about
i'm not selfish
enough to
think i'm
your world

i have a place
at the top of your list
as long as other
things that matter
don't pop up
on your list

i have a place
and i stick
to it
i'm limited to
that place
but at least
i have it
Limited.. even though I should be the opposite
April Lorenzo May 2015
Have you met hurt?
Have you met pain?
I'm sure you have.
I've been in love with them,
yes at the same time.
They compliment each other
and make up what's left of me.

Hurt.
Pain.

So, you see, before you
I've only loved these two.
And they've loved me too.

My hurt.
My pain.

I trust these two.
I tried to find them in you.

I know you're hurt.
I know you're pain.
I know they compliment you,
but you make the most of me.

I trust these two..
and I'm in love with you too.
I feel like this doesn't make sense, I just poured my feelings out. I guess it's one of those things you shouldn't make sense out of.
April Lorenzo Oct 2015
We cry.
No surprise.
There are too many things to cry about.

Like that time the ice cream
fell off the cone before
you even got to lick it.
It was a particularly hot afternoon.

Like that time you thought
you passed that one important exam
but read "unfortunately" in the letter.
Your dreams were crushed.

Like that time you got a call
telling you that your dog
had to go because of the bother.
He was your best friend

We cry.
No surprise.
There are too many things to cry about.

Like that time I cried
myself awake because I dreamt
I wasn't going to marry you.
You said that would never happen.

Like this time I cried
myself to sleep because it was
now possible to not be your only one.
You said you were sorry.

I want to trust you again.
April Lorenzo May 2015
Among walls of books
and a sea of chairs,
I enter the fortress
where I am the princess.
A number of heads
bow down before me
acknowledging my presence
by the sound of papers shuffling.
The familiar textures
of paperbacks and
hardbounds worn out
by the waves of time
kiss the tips of my
fingers, as I offer them
my hand.
A trumpet of
clearing throats
call my presence
to acknowledge the
entrance of.
Across the pathway
between counters
and chairs, with
finely lit ceilings of
fluorescent lit chandeliers,
our eyes met.
Among a sea of chairs
and walls of books
I enter a fortress
where I found my prince.
I wrote this before I met you. Funny enough, I met you at the library.

— The End —