I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me

I don't wipe my tears away anymore
I want to-
I need to feel them as they fall
from the burning in my eyes and nose
to the droplet escaping
every millimeter
over my cheekbone
down down down
more joining
following different paths
I feel them all
I feel them now
they are joy and confusion and anger and rage and frustration and sorrow and mourning and peace incomprehensible

i'm still
wondering
if writing in english could be
the right move
when writing
a poem

second languages
and many words I don't know
figuring out how
not to repeat any word

suddenly i'm not
styling all the capital letters
mssipleing evyre wrod

i guess poetry gives you
her permission
to write from soul
not grammar

i think of
                  spanish
words
i think of rythm
i write in english

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you