There was something so intimate about sharing our favorite colors with each other
About sharing something that people deem as unimportant, basic information
"Does it matter?" He asked
And I said "Yes, because it's funny how we can know so much about each other yet still not know the basics"
I want to know the things that most people don't know
I want to see the parts of you that you hide in your shadows
I want those parts of yours that have gathered dust and cobwebs in the crevices of your mind
I want the parts of you that you may have thrown away
Black
Black was his favorite color
And then he followed up with orange
So he likes Halloween colors
Totally cool with that
And he asked me what was mine and I said I'm a bit colorblind but sky blue appeals to me
And he said he liked that
He liked this thing about me that people deem as unimportant
He liked this small piece of knowledge about me and even if my favorite color may just be as small as a sprinkle on a monster banana split, he liked it

I said I wanted to paint my room sky blue
So that when I'm in bed I feel like I'm lying on one of the clouds in the sky
He said he wanted to paint his red
And I said well that's a dark color
But he said that when he was little the sun shined through his red curtains and covered his room in this red light
And he loved it
I liked that about him
I could imagine his little self sitting on his bed staring at the red light that shone through his curtains
And all this red was all he could think about

If he would ask me again today, "what's your favorite color"
I think I would say, "You
Because ever since you came into my life you were the only color I could see. You were the only color I could feel like how you felt the red from your curtain, I felt your love. You made me realize that color is one of the best things the world has to offer. If I was a blind person and I had met you, I've no doubt I would have the best set of imaginary colors in my head because you have the ability to make me feel so much things at the same time and these feelings come out of me like paint, splattering all around creating the masterpiece of our existence. It was the best masterpiece. It was the kind that you didn't have to understand it to love it. You just loved it as it is. You love the color, the unusual mixture of color over color and the mystery of not knowing the reason behind this festival of colors. you came into my life not with smooth gentle strokes using a paintbrush, instead you painted with your fingers. You told me you wanted to feel the colors at the tips of your fingers and imagined that our blood would change color according to our mood. You wanted to feel that moment when paint meets paper, when color meets blankness because that's how it felt when I met you. You made it seem like knowing the favorite color of a person is like knowing what gives life to a person. I can't say my life has been black and white before you because I could see a few colors here and there in very low tones. As if I was looking at life through filtered lens. But because of you, I am no longer colorblind."

Happy National Month of Poetry
As tradition, I join this thingy
It's something called 30/30
For the whole month, one poem daily
I invite everyone to join with me
Challenge your creativity
Push your boundaries
And explore your vocabulary

I still reread our messages
As if the spaces in between our sentences
Would suddenly produce new words
It was like waiting for flowers to bloom in an eternal winter
I checked every period making sure that you were done saying what you wanted to say
And maybe you'd want to turn your periods into semicolons – your sentences may have ended but your thoughts haven't
I was trying to find something, anything
In the string of words we told each other
Staring at each "I love you"
Trying to figure out if maybe I did something wrong
I had no one to blame for your decision but myself
I couldn't even blame you, I loved you too much
In the sea of I love yous and sweet nothings
I was hoping to find when it exactly stopped
When you stopped feeling the same
When our love became one-sided and you left me hanging
When you let go and I was still holding on
Why didn't I notice that you were gone

If we wrote to each other in Chinese characters I wouldn't be surprised that I misunderstood you somewhere in the stroke of a letter
But we spoke the same language and loved the same things
We went to the same places and made plans about similar things
You made me believe that the language of love isn't French but it was whatever we spoke, whatever we felt,
yet it felt like your words passed through google translate so much so that it turned into a language only you could comprehend

If humans only use 10% of their brain
Well believe me I'm racking my brain so hard trying to understand why I just wasn't good enough for you that I may be using 10.1% of my brain already
Maybe I just missed something
Maybe we lost something along the way and I was too naive to notice
Maybe it's the fact that I loved you after all your mistakes and I tried to understand you like you were my favorite song in a foreign language and I just had to sing along
Maybe I was too blinded
By my own love

My name is Gabrielle Rose Pimentel
But everyone calls me Gwen
My mom wanted to name me Gaby
But my dad insisted that my nickname should come from their names
So I got the G from grace and the WEN from Wendell and formed Gwen

I have 4 moles on my face and a ton more on my body
One eye is smaller than the other
I have dimples on my fingers
I like to connect my moles
My hands have caught so much pain, they are blistered
My shoulders swelling from the weight of the world
My feet red from running around in circles trying to figure out what I did wrong
And yes, I have a double chin

I can get pretty random
From the pyramids of giza to why does soap bubble?
I’ve loved and it is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced
It takes you on this rocket ship into the void
And it makes you feel like all the shooting stars are falling for you
But with love comes hurt
I’ve been hurt and I’ve learned
That the more i try to stop the bleeding, the more it goes
So I let it bleed, and I allow myself to feel the pain
I feel things very deeply and
every feeling is either a bandage to a wound or a punch in the stomach
I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse
I’ve been careless, I am learning
I walk on the glass shards of life barefoot, hoping that the wounds teach me a lesson
As if the blood on my feet carry the answers to my biggest questions

I am just 15 years old
My eyes wide as the universe, ever expanding, ready to see all there is to see
My brain, eager like a little child at the ice cream store, wanting to taste every flavor there is
I am at the peak of my own age of exploration
Waiting for my marco polo moment, when suddenly everything will be clear
Do questions have legs? Because a ton of them run through my mind
Do aliens exist? Is God real? Are there really mermaids? Can dogs feel? Do plants talk? How big is the universe? Is everything real or merely a dream? Why is there poverty? Is there a cure for cancer? Why do bad things happen to good people? Is there any hope left in this world? Will my questions ever be answered?

If life was a new movie everyday,
I would be at the front row
I wanted to see everything that was about to happen
I would stare at it all day in fear that if I looked  away I would’ve missed my prince charming
I will obsess over every detail, trying to figure out what it means
And this is probably why its good that life doesn’t have a movie
It’s the uncertainity of it all that makes life so special
It gives you the choice whether you want to embrace it
Or let it hold you captive and paranoid of whats about to happen
In my case, I learned that I should just let life go and take its natural course of action
Never mess with the universe because the universe is beyond our imagination
We think we’re so important
Like the world revolves around us
but really we aren’t even as small as a speck compared to everything

I'm Gwen and I'm just 15
But this is me, this is who I am
And I'm so done changing myself just for others

Believe me
When I say I want to write
And you're the only one
Holding me back
and at the same time
Inspiring me

A dream is a wish your heart makes
Or so they say
If I dream of a nightmare, am I wishing for one?

I dreamt of you last night
After years of having no thoughts about you
In your white polo under your blue cotton sweater and
Your glasses that sit perfectly across your nose bridge
You are exactly how I remembered you
You were taking photos, that was your hobby
And I had a camera in my hand
We didn't immediately talk but
Stolen glances were evidently exchanged
Until you went behind me and grabbed my camera and said
"Can I take a few pictures?"
God, you were so cute
How could I say no?
"Sure," I said, following you to the tree you were about to shoot
You took a few photos and I watched you
I watched your familiar grip on the camera
And how you squint one eye as you look into the lens
How you smile as you look at every shot you take, satisfied with your work
I could not believe how familiar you seemed
As if we just stopped talking yesterday
The next thing I knew
You were leaning in to me with the lens pointing at us
"Selfie!", you said
Ugh that smile!
And so we took a selfie
And another one and another one and another one
You ran across the field with my camera
Which I obviously needed,
So I ran after you
And there we were like two lost sheep who found each other again,
Chasing after each other with these huge smiles on our faces
And when I finally caught up to you,
I hugged you in an attempt to grab my camera back
And I felt the familiar shape of your shoulders
And how they harden as you tighten your grip around my camera
You were laughing
And, ugh, that laugh was like...
Hearing your favorite song which you've gotten over and being reminded of why you loved it in the first place
I laughed along with you
And we were lying on the field laughing with cameras in our hands

Then I woke up