I don’t need your time.
I have you in my head, heart, and soul.
But if you have nothing better to do,
I would never mind your time.
“If only… in some other universe, we had every waking minute for one another.”

I’m all out of color -
the dim light fills my room,
casting shadows of a waning heart
across my cloud gray walls.
I can’t remember what it feels like
to eat from my heart
and drink from my soul -
what it feels like
to hold the weight of the world
in my palms.
My memories are painted
in colors I can’t quite recall,
my words sung in a melody
I can’t quite capture.
What’s left of me lies
inside these four walls,
complacent in my capture.

I don't want to die
I just need something to make me feel alive.

I twiddled my thumbs and held my breath
As I waited for your sweet voice to call my name.
I ached for your warmth just being there, laying there, sitting there.
I listened to music you loved hoping the melodies
would connect our souls.
I smoked to see if the fumes would sway for me
The way they swayed for you.
Your silence was deafening
It burned holes in my conscience
I filled it with messages and songs you left me with.
The pain you left me with.
                        
                                              -Melanie Munoz

a secret im too scared to share with anyone
except random strangers on the internet:
i wish i had an eating disorder.
i would be sad
but at least i’d be skinny.

im sorry.
i really am.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I was weighed down pound by pound
and things were looking grim.
My arms flailing; began to tire
and my mouth was tasting salt,
just days ago I warmed myself by fire
and by lying on the asphalt.

Shadow stalks and kicking rocks;
irrelevant if your shoes are tied.
Checking locks and kicking rocks
get carried away by the tide.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I could view the sandy ground,
though the image was quite dim.
My head; just barely above the water
and desperately I was gasping for air,
and I could swear it was getting hotter
but the temperature was actually fair.

I’ve got currents and tides
within my mind.
And when I finally rip out my insides;
more water and waves you’ll find.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
While being tossed and pushed around
I discovered I had every limb.
I could see a shoreline in the distance
it’s beaches with perfect white sand.
It seemed within an instance
I started treading steadily with each hand.

They tell me that everything has its time—
Each heartbreak, each joy, every mountain to climb.
But here I sit, drowning in despair,
Wondering why you’re not standing there.

Is it because my body’s wearing thin,
A battle outside reflecting within?
The aches and the weight that drag me down,
A silent war where I feel I might drown.
My balance is gone; the world spins fast,
Each moment a fight just to make it last.
I clutch at walls to steady my pace,
Yet even standing feels like a race.
I’m trapped in a body that won’t obey,
A fragile shell that fades away.

The mirror feels cruel, revealing my fight—
A body in shadow, drained of its light.
I don’t know this face, these heavy eyes,
The weight of sorrow, the endless cries.
It doesn’t see the war inside my mind,
Only the shell that’s been left behind.
I search for the person I used to see,
But all that’s left feels foreign to me.

Maybe the reason we’re not together now
Is hidden in the weight I carry somehow.
My body is failing; my mind feels weak.
The healing I need will take months, not just weeks.
I’m fighting a battle I don’t fully understand,
Too broken to hold another’s hand.

And perhaps you’re healing in your own way,
Facing the wounds you’ve buried each day.
There are pieces of you that still need repair—
A journey to take while I’m not there.
Maybe the universe knows what we don’t,
That we need this time apart to grow.

I wish you were here to steady my fall,
To be my comfort, my strength through it all.
To hold me close, to ease this pain,
To bring some light to the endless rain.
But my sickness is not a burden you should bear,
Not for someone already lost in despair.
You’re fighting your demons, I know that’s true—
It wouldn’t be fair to place this on you.
So maybe it’s better that you’re not near,
For you too have wounds that need to clear.
Perhaps this distance, though hard to endure,
Is part of the reason we’re meant to mature.

And as the year slips closer to its end,
I pray for more time, though I cannot pretend.
With my health declining, I can’t promise tomorrow—
Each day is a balance of hope and sorrow.
Still, everything happens for reasons unseen.
What will be, will be, whatever it means.

Yet, there’s a whisper, soft yet unkind—
A shadow that lingers deep in my mind.
What if the stars won’t guide you back?
What if this love is the one thing I lack?
What if the reasons I cling to are lies,
And love won’t return, no matter my tries?
Am I holding to hope just to numb the fear,
Afraid to accept that you’ll never be near?

Maybe we’re not soulmates; maybe it’s true.
Maybe the stars weren’t meant for me and you.
But I truly believe everything happens for reasons unseen,
Guiding us gently, wherever they mean.

So, if you’re my person, the stars will align.
Through distance and time, your heart will find mine.
If we are meant to be, that truth will arrive.
But first, I must focus on staying alive—
Healing my body, reclaiming my mind,
Seeking the strength I thought I’d never find.
For only when I’m whole can love take its place,
And time will reveal if you share that space.

For now, I wait, with questions unspoken,
Believing some truths are best left broken.
And maybe, just maybe, the path we can’t see
Is still guiding us gently to where we should be.

Words in my mind lingered there,
like the warmth after a sunset.
Longing to depart from my lips,
but in a battle with the mind.

Buried the words in my heart,
wrapped up with the pain.
Those words would have saved you,
If only I'd known the power they held.

If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.
You leave the same impression
Of something beautiful, but annihilating.
Both of you are great light borrowers.
Her O-mouth grieves at the world; yours is unaffected,

And your first gift is making stone out of everything.
I wake to a mausoleum; you are here,
Ticking your fingers on the marble table, looking for cigarettes,
Spiteful as a woman, but not so nervous,
And dying to say something unanswerable.

The moon, too, abuses her subjects,
But in the daytime she is ridiculous.
Your dissatisfactions, on the other hand,
Arrive through the mailslot with loving regularity,
White and blank, expansive as carbon monoxide.

No day is safe from news of you,
Walking about in Africa maybe, but thinking of me.