Feb 13 Caren
you will never be forgotten.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.
Caren Feb 11
How has it been for you lately?

the butterflies are telling me stories I do not wish to hear for they bring me sorrow,
but I listen nonetheless.

does the warm sunshine trace every curve and every beauty mark on your skin
does the wind sing you the sweet, sweet lullabies you once heard from me
do heaven's teardrops caress the same rosy lips I once claimed home
does la Madre Tierra nurture and comfort you with open arms the way a mother never could
do the estrellas illuminate for you, attempting to mimic the brilliance of your hazel eyes

has the Earth y el cosmos cared for you the way I have instructed its skies and oceans?

the mariposas are telling me stories I do not wish to hear, but I listen nonetheless.
Caren Feb 11
color me turquoise
the color of serenity
the color of healing
the color of heaven
the color of positive energy

color me indigo
the color of mourning
the color of reminiscence
the color of melancholy

color me blue
color me with the silk lips that have kissed all that is beautiful
color me with the fluttering eyes that could tell unlimited tales
color me with the tip of your finger that traces every pore of my ivory crème skin
color me with the blood that bleeds through my heart like honey

color me with the color of gaiety and sorrow
therefore color me grieving
and color me euphoric

you are solely responsible for dyeing my dominant scarlet colored blood a puzzling sapphire hue.

nevertheless, color me blue.
Caren Jan 17
Our future is talked about
So carelessly

Almost as if
We are the ones who aligned our stars in their galaxies

Almost as if we have control over our weather,
or our seasons,
or our natural disasters

Almost as if we can control the infinite number of species that walk the same ground and breathe the same air every day

We tend to forget how negligibly small We are
in comparison to the Universe that created Us.
We are only a fraction of this world We have made Our home
yet We treat the species greater and stronger than Us with inferiority

We talk about tomorrow almost as if
It is something We are able to manipulate.
Yet in reality,
Our future is something that even the greatest forces, far greater than you and I, cannot come close to grasping
Our future is inevitable
Our future is
Caren Dec 2017
Ocean Eyes
ice cold
after you
an empty void
no amount
could warm
Caren Dec 2017
I took every word that rolled off your forked tongue like venom,
and turned it into poetry.
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