m a y b e
may be
may (i) be
i (may) be
may i (be) May
(May): spr(i)ng and flowers and bees
(be)es
be (sweet)
be (here)

may i just be
may there always be room for me
between may and be.
have you ever stopped to think
that maybe i raise my voice
not out of disrespect
but maybe
so you can listen?
listen.
there is a heart here, afraid. of you.
there is brokenness you inflicted. pain you named into existence.
wounds that maybe time will heal.
there is laughter that does not want you to hear it.
a song whispered so that you cannot have it.
one day the whisper will become a song.
the laughter a poem.
the heart a voice, saying,
i am here i am here i am here
i am here i am here i am here
i am here
and you will listen.
Gaby Comprés Nov 26
if/when
you choose to reach (for) me
do it because of me
because i am what you want
i am nothing more
than myself
i am a heart that beats in verse
but i am not these poems
i am my skin
a home to my soul
i am not these words
i have tried to become them
but i am more
you
you
stars in my sky,
wishes come true
you
wildflowers unafraid of growing,
making the world beautiful just by being
you
poetry alive,
flying verses, walking rhymes
you
your laughter makes rain fall
seeds grow flowers and hope bloom
you
are the spring
i am just happy i get to be close to
you
Gaby Comprés Oct 14
un día maybe papi
will see me
will not tell me que cambie esa cara
understand that i only have one
and that he gave it to me
un día maybe papi
will brew us some coffee
hot enough to break el hielo we both put in there
un día maybe papi
will listen to my silence
understand that there are words in it too
will stop pulling out
palabras que no pueden salir
un día maybe
mis palabras tendrán color
they will be like a river that i cannot stop from flowing
un día maybe i will write him a poem
and it will be in a book
un día maybe papi
will not have to ask me to speak up
un día maybe
papi querrá bailar conmigo
un día, maybe.
Gaby Comprés Oct 14
un día maybe mami
will run her hands through my hair.
she will not try to straighten it.
her fingers will be gentle and kind.
un día maybe she will look at my skin
won't point out the flaws
(aunque los haya)
she will connect all the freckles and beauty marks
me llamará una constellation
miel will drip from her lips
fall on my forehead
un día maybe mami
will understand me
read my poems
write me un poema
in which she loves me
maybe my poems
(my love)
are meant for the rain
she will carry my words
(my love)
across the river
to the sea
tell the fisherman
he’s got mail
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