the sky
cried heavily
in her pain,
that night
even the moon
hid behind
dark skies
and grieved
with the rain,
the whole universe
attended the funeral
of her heart,
as she buried
in silence
all that
what had become
from her apart.

- n. ib

I was not born a

poet.

I was broken into

one.


*Sandoval

You're the cement on which I walk
and the language that I talk.
You're the chalk in the dark tunnels
and the door on which I knock.
You're my summer breeze
and my winter solstice.
You're the smile on my face
and my depression soulless.
You're an empty canvas
And I'm A broken paintbrush
You're waves crashing against the shore
and I'm an impatient surfer real bored.
You couldn't care less
and I sacrificed more.
I lost three loves to you
and I love you squared.
I love you, and it's not fair
And you're my everything anywhere.