The memory of you haunts me
and I give in
because it feels so good
to go back
and feel a shadow of what we felt.
So I sink in
and relive it
like a movie
distorted
unreal
because it's better than the truth.
You're really gone.

Define who you are,
You're free to do so,
There's no dictionary for that,
Its your life,
If you know who you are and why you chose to be who you chose to be,
No words can make you doubt  you,
Anyone can give you any label,
But its all upto you to take it or leave it,
Be positively clear about yourself,
Life isn't easy,
And to get some goodness out of it,you have to create the possibility of having that goodness
By being receptive to good things,trash the bad stuff
Not to live in denial but to know that good times also have to be there.

This one goes to the real poets.
To those who decide to carry the world on their own.
To those who carry hell in their head and a graveyard of lost love stories in their heart
To the brave ones who fight darkness with darkness.
Tho those who the only answer they seek from a god is if there's eternal life for their loved ones, because they know there's no space for them in that paradise.
To those who know that suffering is the most humane feeling there is.
To those who loved and hated the wrong person.
This goes to Lorca isolated, hiding in a closet in New York.
To Unamuno craving to believe in something impossible.
To Quiroga drinking the poison of his sorrow at a hospital.
To Becquer and Espino for dying so young.
To Neruda for cheating on himself so many times.
To Machados' lost spirit.
To Marquez and his melancholic ******.
To Poe's tormented soul and his raven.
To Shakespeare and his Juliet.
To Dante and his story of woe.
This goes for the only beings who can live with a hell inside of them, and still manage to write heavenly things for those in need to read.
This one's for us.

"Happiness is a decision"
Is something I hear people say often
"Happiness is a decision"
Please tell that to my depression
Tell Depression that I never invited her over
We are a blind date ambush I didn’t agree to
My friend Anxiety set us up because we would make a good match
"Happiness is a choice"
Please tell that to my insomnia
Full of conversation pieces that only serve to resist the edge of sleep
My insomnia has become acquainted with depression
And neither care for happiness
They would rather talk about my lonliness
As if it weren’t in the room
But my lonely is always around as the friend I know best of all
Because I don’t make friends very easily
I am an awkward introvert
When I learn what people think of me
I cant help but hurt
There are high expectations I know I’ll never live up to
Even my mother has moved on to grandkids who still have time
To not disappoint her
"Happiness is a choice"
Please tell that to my face
I will try to believe you
My cohort of friends inside my head
Will likely disagree