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gabriela Jul 2017
how many girls do you know
that can dance to "maybe"
and "sometimes"?

boy. boy, who is only missing
you when he is in the mood
for something different.
a change of heart.
i know you're hungry, so
here's a side order of drunk calls and
spilled "i'm busy"s for your
squandered appetite.
enjoy the meal.
patiently waiting.
gabriela Jul 2017
i got something you aren't ready
to hear just yet.
it comes in ash and that's the only way
i know how to present it.
my hands stay covered in midnight
and you sleep through dawn.
you sleep and sleep while
              i lose track of time.
has it been four hours now
or eight?
this lost longing. this familiar ache.
                                      selective amnesia? yeah.
yeah, that sounds about right.
don't call it a "game,"
call it
            "waiting patiently until
the roof caves in. until we become
something not you, not even i
                                 can recognize."
i can't stop thinking about that time a few weeks ago when i said i missed you and you told me that "sometimes i feel the same."
gabriela Jul 2017
i lose my train of thought often.
         something always catches me off-guard &
this time i'm wondering if the walls
                                        of your room are
a peach-tan or an
                i'm-drowning-tonight-and-there's-
nothing-you-can-do-to-stop­-me-navy.
i keep the thought at arm's length so
it doesn't get too close for comfort.
               who knows what it's capable of.
i think about your room too much at 1:22 AM.
gabriela Sep 2016
let's talk about curiosity.* let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough?  i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. *because here it is:
he makes me feel a little too much
  Jun 2016 gabriela
s
i let people walk all over me
like the red carpet except
i’m not nearly as beautiful
or highly regarded.

falling down, i put on high
heels with you in mind, to look
more attractive, to appear taller;
i twist my ankle but you don’t
care about how painful it is when
i try to look good for you.

at night, i slip into
a lonely unconsciousness,
while you slip into
another girl’s bed.
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