The wind cried jasmine and “east,”
Past the muddied waters
Grande
And mass graves tortured
Tamaulipas;
Past the rasps, taunts, tortures,
And gasps bereaved,
So much so and so could I.

Set and to sail,
I could feel the tumbleweed
Sting my toes, with each and every
Bitter step; One more sojourn
And seeking the earliest unknown,
A celestial sort of gallant,
Faceless and opposed,
The awkward, “welcome home.”

Come earlier, come Mexico,
She’d scarred my stomach
With love, a newer sort of sear,
Notarized the scar I still carry
When I drown at five past four
With the deafening scent of
Mescal and torpor
Atop my tongue.

It’s upon hot nights,
Like this very one, that
I imagine the Melons of Reynosa,
Succulent, a summer night, with
Stars stained sorrow, strayed me,
Stayed you, and fled I did,
Taken to bamboo, and forever’d,
The newest resident, “away.”

I’d never noticed the
Freckles
On your
Shoulders.
But then again,
You’d never noticed
The scars.

Specifically
The ones
On my chest,
And if you had,
I’d never
Heard
Anything about them,
Or, “it.”

It had been awhile since we’d
Last crossed paths,
Encounters always
Ending in
Collision,
Connection
And corrosion come the first
Morning after; but welcomed.

You looked good though,
And that’s how it’d always
Started,
But beautiful nonetheless  –
A world-weathered skin
In the form of a twilight tan,
The vulnerable smile
With a small curl displaying

Aggressive sexuality,
And a dress, your cloth,
A critical juncture,
Of both cinema and satori,
A’flutter in the wind.
“Gift-wraps,” aside,
I’d always return to the
Form and curve of “You.”

Simply you
The half I could see
Leaving the other
Somehow elusive side of
You
To my imagination and
Memory
Of prior gallantry.

Unspoken words
Pave paths between the
Tables we now occupy.
So to,
Acts of predation await,
Perched and ready for
Gardens,
Accepted, the resulted chaos.

I wonder,
“What’s she thinking?”
As I capture a wink
And steal the sunlight
Bouncing of her
Shoulder’s freckles.
It’s an intoxication
At its finest.

Accordingly,
I sip my
Beer
And in echoes mumble,
“I want you, want you,
Want you.”
Luckily,
You wanted me too.

It’s “then” that I realize,
When my friends leave,
That half of me dies,
Not at the door,
But beyond the locks,
And delirious drives
Home.

Come the other half –
The side
That revels in the quiet;
It slowly bites my tongue,
After sleep,
When I slip outta bed,
Crazed from dreams,
And even further by work;
Let me reside, the floor.

There’s no respite, no hour,
I’m annoyed even by
My stubble,
And the duty to
Shave –
Name me “lazy?”
Or labeled the animal?

I open the shades –
The forecast calls for rain.
I close the shades –
It’d ‘ever be night.

And after I’ve chased them out,
Something still and falls.
It’s not water, but rather,
Silent apologies that drip
And drizzle
From the sky and
Corners of my mouth.

They’re the “wants” left unheard,
In the form of unanswered
Voicemails, texts,
Email intentionally marked “spam,”
And pebbles echoed window,
Attempts “disguised” behind
Melody and
Resonant retribution.

I’ve always known how to
Push,
And now,
More importantly,
When to pull back.
If only I could
Drag
Myself from bed,
As this feeling’s “today,”
And it may not be there
Tomorrow.

Her words fell
Like the limbs of a
Dandelion
Departed;
Once a breath per
Echoed meme
And come another dream
With every
Feather’s frolic.

The lips within this
Captured moment
Flutter and fall,
Dismal and drunk,
Like the butterfly prior winter;
An excuse,
And she deserved better.

So to, I’ve learned to meander
One
Simple
Breath,
Be it the gasp, “final,”
Parallel and the very same
She’d blow and blow and
Scatter seed with.

And I’d love her
Just as much,
If only years ago,
But now carry forth,
Lash atop knowing “flee,”
Merely inched
And adjusted winds.

It’s a “later”
Sort of tale atop tongue,
And idea coined “alive,”
Albeit moments before born,
So much closer to
“Never-end,”
Resonant, if only –

Her dandelion’s dream
And soon to be later patches
Green;
Come the grass,
Come the amnesia,
Come the cold,
Oh girl!
Come the day we both knew
I’d leave.

When it all began,
There were two;

If only two, prior poor decisions and an even poorer
“port,” wine – precursory, I’m sure, to the sugar that’d
split my tooth. And I’d remember the palm of her hand
atop my own sweaty knuckle – SNAP! CRACKLE!
POP! Or so went the molar, only moments before and
come the lash of her tongue. There must’a been

something sprinkled avarice behind the blood nigh
corner of my lip. She’d liked it. She’d licked it. So much
so, that my eyes would gently drift, wander and close.
When next they’d open, skies would be bluer, the sun
would shine just a bit more than usual and my jaw’d be
fit for steel. For the first time in days, the pain was gone.

So when it all ended,
There’d be only one.

Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s
suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.

And come the moment where I’d wished the
moon there, I’d yet to find the means to seize
it. It’s an unwelcome catharsis as our cratered
dream, along with the car, the keys, the
carnal, and caprice, are possessed, tucked a
deep blue jean pocket, and just above your
rear, perfection had I ever traced it; now
untouchable, rendered my choice.

Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s
suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.

I don't want you
to tell your friends
how much
I matter to you.

I want them to know
by the way you'll
look at me at dinner

or

the way you talk
about me when
you should be
doing something else

I don't want
a necklace
or a diamond

I want your lips
against my neck
whistle your hands
hold me like you've
never touched anyone
before.

I don't want anyone
I want you

Marking my worth[lessness]
by defacing my template
with the corroded hands of others
who spend their time chiseling away at
life’s most imperfect perfections
  Embroidered with a cross stitch
ravelling us all together in one big quilt
showcasing one’s collected patches

Finding myself unable to convey
my lack of conversation skills
or the assumptions that I already know
and everything I could do is better than this
and I deserve better than this--
what I choose to accept
will never meet my own standards
as my standards are based on accepting others
but my other side lives in a fantasy
and believes what genuine souls tell me
which is I “deserve better than this”

Maybe I don’t, in a parallel universe
I can’t accept what I want to believe
because I can’t explain why I accept
   “less than I deserve”
when I’m unsure of what I deserve in the first place
What deeds have I done to merit great things?
Is my moral compass pointing north or south, east or west?
Does it matter when each way leads to eternal rest?

what do I do? constantly troubled by problems that i created myself in my head. my friends keep telling me I think too much. but how can I not think when I care? how can I not think when they mean something to me?

sometimes I feel like a lost soul, just wandering around, not knowing where is truly home. where exactly is home? have I ever had a real home in the first place?

I won't mind if those friends don't treat me as someone important. It's okay. At least tell me alright.

I never intended to give you guys any burden. like too much books on a shelf that it would give way some day. I don't want to end up in a state of breakdown like how bookshelves topple down due to too much weight.

"Knock knock, can I come in?" "Yes sure, you can"

why do you guys act like all of you don't dislike me but allow me to join you? i'm so confused. Am I making a fool of myself here? Am I a clown to all of you because you guys keep treating me like this?

I feel like I can never rank high in your list of good friends. why do I keep trying so hard. it would never help. it won't ever work.

why do I keep spending time with you in hopes to get closer to you like how close we were before?

why am I making myself unhappy at the end of the day? I felt like I would've have cried at that moment. asking a friend you've got to know through me whether that friend wanted a friendship band but not asking me.

how about me? have you forgotten about me? feeling so many hurt that I couldn't even breathe properly. the pain is indescrible. almost like so many thorns on a rose piercing right through our heart. you can't stop the pain.

so tell me, is this friendship ever worth it? will it ever be?