never
entertain

slutty

women.
or

never eat spider webs
can work too..

taking walks on this chilly evening
on w 45 st with a caramel wrapper in my back pocket
thinking about the old crushed valentine
i placed next to the waste paper basket from my ex saying
she realized she wanted to be friends with
a pack of chalky Sweettarts taped behind it.

taking walks
realizing i could've done things differently
like put the pieces together.
realizing she became more distant progressively for some time.
she was cutting off communication more and more
like it was a tumor..
as if if our love developed it would've been
cancerous.

she was just protecting herself..

ay abuelo,

i never met you but
i feel like i have with the stories
I've been told.

..

you were the second man she took seriously in her life.
you'd drink and come home and break the china she worked hard to pay off.
you don't know the effect you've had on my father.
hes only met you once and
when he gets mad it gets overpowering
(must be in the genes)
he knows how to silence a crowd.
when he was younger, he'd look up to the tough guys that'd always win the fights of the neighborhood.

because of the lack of your presence
he found peace in the violence.

and now I'm torn since i want to meet you
but I'm just having a problem attempting to harness peace
in our silence.

i made too many cuts and the ink ran
out too quickly

my heart was splattered all over the love letter
i was supposed to slip in your locker
like old times..
is cool though just another

sepia dream yknow how they go..

i only slipped into fantasy and i guess i just crashed.

time goes by when you're having fun.

“I want it to be accurate” she said.

“But nice as well,
you are in love with me aren’t you?”


I wrote.

wanna blow o’s in a rental while listening to
Amy Winehouse

wanna curl up on your lap while you teach me
how to play fortnite.

wanna wear thigh high socks and your chain
and be your “wicked *****”
with scenes of us shown in sepia

wanna wear baggy ripped jeans,
crew socks, a slicked bun, and a baby tee
and take ***** backpack clique pics..
i could just go on..

beneath your small and rough exterior
you’re so sweet and your disposition feels so familiar.

we’ve met before

just not in this lifetime.
let us love like you knew this for some time.

and you kissed every scar i have
mentally and

physically.

we finally bought a house,
it was the one our families rented out for vacation one summer.
that was notable since it was the one we’d hurry to run away from
trail down to the beach and
we made a fire on the sand.
of course we had to set up a tent and
we were back by morning but every now and then we’d look up through the yellow windowsill to see if the lights were on,
just making sure no one noticed we were gone.

through the yellow windowsill
we’d exchange faces while i was in the house
doing the dishes and you’d taunt me
you’d be outside
soaked of your own sweat after skateboarding.
your sweat didn’t stop you from stealing a kiss before you left me alone once again.


through my windowsill though,
the scenery gets darker,
the drizzling rain progressed into windy showers
and it doesn’t feel like i’m here right now.
the oceans waves are at the highest tides now.
crashing.
unforgiving.
seeming almost unstoppable.
i think i need to slow down.
i think fantasy is what i want but reality is what i need
or what we need..

i think i should get my body off the edge of the windowsill.
my imagination is rapid.
help me my love..
my grip is getting slippery..
i’m bound to fall..

you returned from a long day and
i was at the table on the desktop rushing to finish something up.
without words you started to play jazz on the tv and you grabbed me
by the hand and with a little shake i’m up,
smiling
certain of my uncertainty of what was to come next.

we started to waltz like fools all around the sala,
passing over pillows
me not even caring that you didn’t take off your shoes and
then we kept on stumbling since you don’t know how to dance.

and then we fell back
onto this crimson rug
we layed laughing and trying to catch our breaths at the same time..
unsure of how we led up to then.


through the crimson door,
my father walked through
wondering what i’m doing laying by myself
listening to jazz
with all my love letters scattered on this crimson rug..
i think i miss you...

under these mauve lights
we slow dance to the song that was popular
when we were on a break.

under these mauve lights
i study every imperfection in your face,
where you let the muscles tense and relax,
the way you look up every time i smile
at you as you pretend like you don’t see me.
and i forget i’m yours already sometimes.
and i look at you and i start to crush again.
i start to get the butterflies again.
but then you gently bring me down from the clouds
when you hold me the way you do.
so close and safe.

under these mauve lights
we hang by the bar with our friends
after we get a little too hot on the dance floor.
sweaty palms and whatnot
then
under the starlight
we go out to the terrace and slow dance once again
and whisper our sweet nothings
and after a while we just hold each other
not letting anything interfere..
i think i love you..

she was lost
trying to find herself in
her friends...

bendíto
her parents saw her less and less
incluso para la iglesia.

in the distance you could hear the
coquis
crying of her fate.

then the laughter would subside and
our chests, more like your chest and my head would touch.
then our knees, more like your knees and my thighs would touch.
and it’s like the atmosphere got warmer
just for us two.

knowing that as odd as it sounds,
the love that we have,
or at least feels genuine,
is so real.
so i plead for you
to not leave.


but by accident
i closed my eyes for too long
i opened them quickly but too late.
i’m back here now.
in a ball.
laying on my parents bed
trying to continue that daydream but still incapable..

let our love be sustainable..

i want to close my eyes and open them
to when you were with me
in the bitter cold playing staring contests
with the brisk wind hitting us both
and we’d laugh at each other when
we’d make stupid scrunched up faces
and then the tearing came next and of course
you’d win.
i’m terrible at games.
you’d nestle up in my neck and tell me it’s okay
but to **** it up cuz no one likes a sore loser
and i’d reply with an “oh yeah?!” wearing a crazed face and then we’d both laugh..

i saw you the other day
but i miss you already,
I told you i was gonna write about it
and look i did.
I told you i was gonna be
sad the next day because something’ll come up
and look it did.

it always does.

i could say
she knew she would suffer.
she had what he wanted and she gave it to him.
little did she know she wasnt the only one thats been fooled.
she thought he was the one to be there when she was hurting and when she wanted to be loved.
it was just a hit and run.
she felt so complete when they spoke.
she tries to busy herself now with hobbies..but everything she ever enjoyed doing was with him and if he wasn't with her she was thinking about him...his warm touch.

it went through her like voltage but still soothed her of her pain that she hid away for only for so long..
how he’d caress her after a long day and wanted to show her the beautiful things that she really lived for..
starting from her shoulder
ever so slightly stroke her neckline going over the necklace she always wore
and down to the small of her back,
creating slow
circular motions.
to add that extra touch, he'd then hold her jaw up just right
and lean in to whisper in her ear
all the things that sounded too good to be true.
too practiced.
he did this before
she knew it.
one red flag.

his breath sent shivers through her entire being
but wouldn't say anything since she refused to give him the satisfaction that he desired.
he knew the game too well.
he knew what he was doing to her.
one of the many red flags that she purposely chose to ignore..

she’d gasp as if trying to consume all the air whole
yet it just wasn't possible..
she thought it wasn't possible for her to fall for such a man
but it happened.
it happened and she regrets not listening to the red flags that she picked up.
now he's off.
promising another girl a night of her life.

it’s like i could still hear her

calling my name.


she was too impatient to go..



es como si nunca te hubieras ido..

i’m in the dark,
and i’m terrified..
i try to close my eyes and not think about it
but my eyes keep opening..


i swear there’s monsters
coming out of my wall.

i distracted myself with different boys,
i dont know how to put it exactly but let me put it like this,
“he” created the **** in my chest
and i didn’t know what to do-
he was my first.

i cried,
had butter pecan ice cream,
did my nails,
watched UP three times.
yknow trying to heal it but
self love wasn’t cutting it.

so i created a mask for myself,
lookin identical but within almost cynical.
to heal how i felt,
i was going to make those males fall in love with me-
and then hold their hearts in front of them and
torture them meticulously,
all without them realizing it too.
the look on their faces as they tried to figure what was wrong with them
why i didn’t stay.
priceless.
the satisfaction was beyond belief.
but it wasn’t my own satisfaction,
it was because of the mask that i put on-
it wasn’t me i swear it!
i threw it away after reaching this point of realization

i finally settled for someone who treated me the same,
but stayed..
i know this game awfully well and
i don’t have a lot of time left

trembling
holding the desired tool
her hands were trembling
ice cold
looking almost inhuman
quaking like a knife was placed in her hands and
she had to either **** her love or
herself.

she did it to distract herself from the demons that were
scratching and ****** her from the inside just needing to come out some way.

so she was generous enough to make a vertical pathway for them to escape.

not being able to lean on
your shoulder
makes the chill of the morning
even colder.

                 we talk on the phone but when you leave, i feel more alone.

but then i remember your sweet laugh-
more like a cackle..
you’re in my head,
makes me feel like i’m in shackles.

                 while i’d rather us in bed, smiling away at our own thoughts..

we take advantage of the time we have,
even in my imagination you have my hair
in knots and
shirt with spots.

living is so expensive.
moms working two jobs and
dads doing overtime weekly now and
i little myself too much
already knowing of my parents expenses,
i don’t think about things that i may want,
knowing we probably can’t afford it.
Like why go online shopping and let the items sit in your cart
knowing well you aren’t in the position to purchase anything
and when you stumble upon it it’s saddening to an extent.
“borderline depressing”
mom says.
“that’s just how life is”
dad says as he pours a *** of hot water
into my sisters lukewarm bath.

heartache and debt
the cost of living.

“there’s gonna be a drill soon,
we need to take the proper
precautions
so that we can
survive.“

this is a drill.
seeing you with another girl.
you’re just testing me to see how i’d react.
it’s fine i’ll keep my cool.

this is a drill.
you practiced the look you give her,
i already know the routine-
look up slowly and don’t let her notice you saw her first
give her a small smirk that accentuates your right dimple and one raised eyebrow.

you would never hurt me

you promised,
is it really a drill?

i want to survive.

i walk into the tightly packed condo
and the unwelcomed smell punches me in the face and one word pops up

perníl

oh and how could my olfactory senses be so ignorant
and try to blind the
cinnamon and lavender incense.
such a great mix.

i’m so tired of everything,
seeing the familiar faces and hearing from those that i haven’t seen in years
that it looks like i haven’t been eating as much.
i get a little cheek pinch and reassurance from mis tíos
that they’d gladly fight any guy that breaks my heart
and how they can’t wait for me to start driving so i can take my grandma places
my uncle’s new novía asks if my parents let me date
and then if i’m dating and how it’s just better if i’m single
because she doesn’t want to find out i’m living like a girl from Knickerbocker.
and then i get a poke from a passing príma
asking me how i dance and that when i was younger i always used to
walk around w ******* and my real thick afro
and then she’d exit but before she did
she’d blow the hookah vapor into my face and start up another convo.
while she leaves me coughing in a fog of
strawberry cheesecake flavored air.

it’s family though
you have to love them
no matter what they’re like..

yeah right.

i’ll be waiting for you
to walk through the door.

i want to see your face when you see me



wearing only
your ring.

and he dreamt of her day and night..
there was never a time where his mind
could take flight.
he fell asleep and thoughts of her were out of sight.
until she was there
in the middle of the field,
she saw him-
started running-
then came to a yield.

he saw her being dragged away by a force he could not see
maybe it was his mind fighting for a state of tranquility..
but no matter
he was happy,

for getting rid of her was meant to be.
he walked to the stump of a tree,
looked up and tried to catch his breath so desperately.
he turned around to catch some sense now
but saw
a heart engraved in the bark with the words
“you + me”.
after this he was in agony
suffering with worry really..
he realized with every turn she’d always be apart of he.
and in her he saw a missing piece of where he
was always supposed
to be..

you’re trying to refine the picture

but in the process,
things are just getting more
blurred.

so what do we do
now that we’ve established that things are
staying
pixelated?

time heals they say

but likeee..


my clock just broke and
it just so happensss it’s gonna take
a while to fix it.

Then I’ll be able to keep on going as if
nothing happened.

she saw me and took me into her shrine
I worshiped her
with your smell on these petite hands of mine.
Saw me as the innocent kind
so things went fine
and we kinda just spoke our minds
talking about our demons dying in the nighttime.
when she'd give me an endearing look i felt the
shock in my spine.
it was eased with the aged red wine for most of the time.

then she said we'd only fall in love when the stars aligned.

so we hugged and
departed and with dismay
i wrote these lines to then read another day.

Why is it that
the Sun is larger than the planets
but from where we are,
it looks so small?

or why does it look like I
only notice the clouds follow me
when I’m on the road
missing you..

but the thing is
we’re so insignificant.
The Milky Way we’re in is huge
but the universe is even greater
my head is exploding with fragments
of bone and grey matter.

Lilah,


I remember when I was going through a really hard time last year, you were there constantly even when it felt like I wasn’t
and you didn’t mind.
You didn’t mind not understanding what was wrong but as long as you could console me to a certain extent, you were pleased.
You’d give me this face thinking that I’d crack a smile
and seeing that I wouldn’t budge, you’d put on the Lauryn Hill station on Pandora.
You’d paint these pictures that were messages that said,
“Don’t Leave Me! I Wuv U” and ”You Are My Everything, Dont Go”. I’d glance at them when you were in the process of adding more and more decorations in watercolor..
but I never let the thoughts behind it actually resonate in me.
I didn’t care about how my actions or thoughts could hurt or affect anybody,
I couldn’t eat or think straight but that’s what heartbreak does..hopefully you won’t find that out soon.
I thank you for that now though.
Supporting me with the little things that you do.

It’s dark where I am.
not metaphorically entirely for once.

I wish I could see his face
if only I could just turn around,
see if I could help him, knowing well of all of my previous efforts
And their failures with each attempt.
I forfeit the idea and instead,
I look to my left and see my parents
holding hands both busy keeping silent
the high school
middle school and
elementary sweethearts.

They stayed together through such hard times.
How long do I have until he realizes that my efforts truly are
worthless, unmoving, and
meaningless..
Does he think this already?
Am I too late?

Faces facing forward,
Looking at recycled idols
caring not and so people soon forgot;
she had talent.
to me this was apparent.
She wasn’t like the others,
she thought out of the box because
She didn’t like what was in.

Slower, slower
Replaying her moments
The way she moved
Out of place
How those eyes darted
Back and forth
You could tell
I studied her and
fell in love with the things I didn’t know yet.
I was so sure she was aware of this
and she didn’t mind.
She played it off
Her being the wallflower type of girl
she was, and she didn’t patronize me either but in a way

she still did.

Trato de guardar mi corazón cuando estoy contigo todos los días,
pero en vano,
me enamoro de ti una vez más sín esfuerzo



I attempt to guard my heart when I'm with you every day

but to no avail,

i fall for you once more effortlessly.

even when wiping away tears,
I imagine you here without having to picture your face
just your scent
and it gives me a sense of comfort..

your scent is like a memory that will never fade
or be able to be wiped

away from my being.

It still lingers and
evokes a primal sensation through my spine y me vuelve loca.
The feel of your grasp at my hips and breath past my ear as you..
still haunt me
knowing that I still crave it after all this time.

Knowing that I’ll risk it over, even though I know I’ll fade away
into just a memory eventually..

All these poems remind me too much of us

and what it what was like to love you

the only word that crosses my mind


futility.

I saw your look and I knew something was up.
You said you were fine and I thought we got past your lying phase.
I want to know what's wrong and
I've actually never seen you cry..
I think you have heard me cry on the phone once..
nope actually a couple occasions.

I wonder if you're up..
if you decided to eat today but it shouldn't have to be that way.

My dad loves you a lot and
he always asks me about you and I'll
always reply with a "he's good" cuz what else would I say right?
The truth.
Like the opposite.
That you're breaking and what's holding you together is..



Only four minutes have passed.

i love my loneliness.
What I don't love is when people
comment on how they feel about it.
Simple.

-

I appreciate the opportunity of my solitude
in violin.
gives me time to observe and take
note of certain behaviors that
(normal) kids my age acquire.
But it's like,
everyone's wanting to be liked to
they all dress familiar
wearing their savings
rather than saving it for something
worth while
since everything's just a fad now and most-
I can't say all act the same and
they blame it on how they were raised and the neighborhood they grew up in.
Even though I know adults who do the same.
Hopefully they'll grow out of it, like
these adults haven't.
Maybe everyone needs a little lonely
for some social cues.

Are you the type that'd rather know how they'd die



or when they will.

Or will you just look at me crazy like you usually do when I talk like this
and then just look away
trying to hide the possibility of you

already having an answer.
Having already contemplated on the subject for some time now.

we bury our feelings, hypotheticals,
and curious hearts from the remnants
of what was left in the void where
we both stash away our junk.
Only for the illusions to be rediscovered and relived when
"the time is right" like the ****
you keep in your sock drawer.
we bury feelings deeper and deeper only
to reveal that we couldn't really live without
the pain and memories of love and
how I was never good at playing games.
I almost expect for us to never be able to
be the same.

I watch outside the car
as I pretend that all the raindrops that scatter
across the windshield collect and streak down the window
are racing.

And only he is on my mind.
All of our memories and moments collecting at the bottom..
My mind fleeting of such temporary happiness.

Separation sometimes helps people learn to miss others.
And I swear I've learned my lesson..
I just need him to come
back..
Amy Winehouse is breaking the silence in the car
and as she got me thinking
since I'm just so needy for him..
will he still love me
tomorrow..

love that all the sounds above are beautifully muted
when it seems like you're underwater,

it's almost calming..
just what I need in conditions like
these.

drowning will be
my way of finding a
total state of peace.

my life.
me.
my place.
school.
pending job application.
All of it is so
overwhelming
I feel like if it all stopped-
rather if I stopped.
It wouldn't change anything.
It would make things move
smoother.
Definitely would be more cost effective
for my mother.
Just one less student to collect data from
to then be averaged into a system.
my purpose of
living is currently
aimless.
Going to high school for medical careers yet
my heart lies
between
lines.
Until I settle,
I'll keep riding my skateboard in the
same neighborhood and stay writing in the
same journal and keep loving the
same lover..

that look that you
give me with those
soft and welcoming brown eyes.
Dark like pine.
Looking into them
yet being afraid that I'll
fall in too deep and the
only thing that could save me
would be
me.
how can I save my helpless self
when you make me so
vulnerable.
Feel as if you were an open book
my open book.
Every time you look into my eyes
It's almost
                  invasive.
Stealing a little piece of me
every time.
To then eventually
leaving nothing left
of me remaining but my
lovely bones ..

observing and studying.

behind every face, there is a story.
Which we all fail to
realize at times.

Fail to realize that she may
seem
like she has her
sh*t together even though
it's just a front.
She's on her way to
nowhere.
Running away from anxieties and expectations.
At least she has somewhat of a smile
right?
That's all we need to put up this front that
everything's fine?!
Fail to realize that he has creases on his
face
looking as if caused by laughter
yet from
shedding tears of both
pain and joy.
Scars on wrists and bruises on his
back
that stays as hidden stories
only revealed when he
wears short-sleeved shirts.
Seems like the only time
people want to pay attention.
Funny right?
Couldn't notice before right?

It's crazy to think that every day of life puts us closer to death. I mean it's life that kills us. Living is a slow suicide. Time is the pills we take, the calories we refuse to eat. Choosing to stay alive or choosing to die- in the end, the only thing that separates them is a handful of years and the questions we ask that never get answered.

                                                               Right?
                                                               Agnes

my true love
my father
was a stressfree
person growing up
I saw the look on his
face change
we were both getting
older
and he sensed that
As I got older and started
to fit into
new clothes
He started to attract
worry lines
I never saw him like this
never
and i didnt like it either
As i got older i got more
wiser and
my meta-cognative awareness
was peaking (or so I thought at the time).
People started to notice me
while he still remains worrying
worrying that ill change
and wont be
daddys little girl
anymore