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J Valle Mar 2021
A heartbeat frettles under my skin,
upon my eyes, a darker tint,
this body, not more than a shell,
for all I know, I might be dead.

Along it came with my first breath,
this yearn, to paint the walls in crimson red
an everthought, my resting place,
for all I know, call me obsessed.
J Valle Jun 2018
I must say that it got me fooled
The road seemed straight
The scars had cooled
And the obstacles had strained

But the turn eventually came
And now I'm coming back
To the spinning hail
To my self attack

Further self,
I know you will get us there.

Former self,
Forgive me for getting us here.
J Valle Feb 2018
I've loved the wrong people
But I've loved them right
I've learned how to love
The people I shouldn't have
I've given up my heart
I've shown up my art
Expected what they couldn't give
But I've done it right
I've loved purely and bravely
But the direction was misguided
But I can't help to fanthom
That maybe one day
The right person will show
And I won't love him right.
J Valle Sep 2017
I'm stumbling like a toddler in a room.
My hands are on my sides plane-like in the air
trying to give me some balance, to keep me from falling.
My feet hurt and are clumsy, they're not used to this.
I'm using my father's shoes.

I'm wearing them to feel like an adult,
like one of those old humans who go and live an adult life,
but my father's shoes are too big for my baby feet,
no matter how hard I try, they just don't fit.

But I keep doing it.
I'm not alone in this room,
There's no way I would be doing this just for myself,
maybe at the beginning, when it was fun.
My family is staring at me.

They are all expectators.
Of this crazy show I'm directing,
Half thinking I'm cute for pretending to be one of them.
The other half's just waiting for the moment I trip and start crying.

My father's shoes are too big for me,
This adult mockery is not for me,
Just as I realize about this.

I trip.
J Valle Jul 2017
Oh dear mind of mine,
Are you really mine?
Are you really connected
To my bones?
Are you really a part of
Can't you hear my heart?
Screaming his name,
Everytime you bring us
A picture of himself,
Didn't you get the memo?
Where we left very clear,
That it was for our safety,
To not overthink his face,
Leave his smell locked out,
But here you are,
What a traitor,
Our heart skipped a beat
And now can't stop crying
All because,
You are thinking on your own,
Oh dear mind of mine,
Just spare me one,
Let me live with no regret,
With no sorrow
And no heartache.
J Valle Jun 2017
My mamma has cancer and I
Haven't shed a single tear
But both my heart and mind
Run to you to feel you near.

You are that safe place
The haven to my chaotic surround
The chord I follow in this maze
My whole body aches for not having you around.

What do I do?
If I know you are not right for me,
If I know you love like a virus,
If I know you don't want me,


Yours is the hug I've been longing
Yours are the eyes that confort me
Yours is the only romantic love I've felt
(or at least that's how I felt it)
You are the person I want to be next to in this chaotic days...

I know it is sick,
You wrote me on my birthday,
And I didn't say a thing,
Yet here I am, writing you again

Where's my pride?
Where's my dignity?
You may ask.

My pride is right here, as well as my dignity,
They are here in this transparent lines,
They are in my honesty.

I didn't answer on the 14th,
Cause I didn't know what to say,
I felt the same cycle beginning again,
And I'm in no state for our silly games.

Maybe I still love you
Maybe I just need you right now.

I don't know what do I want,
I don't know if I want you back or
if I just want to feel again what I felt when I was with you.

I don't know what to do
Nor why do I think of you
I know you don't think of me back.

When in a blue notebook I,
Presented you the chance to change
Or be better,
You ignored the latter as well as me.

So I can imagine how this must look like
Again, my crazy obsessed mind running to you.
I swear it is not.

You might ignore this like you've done before,
Feel no obligation to respond
Feel no remorse for your actions,
Just do what feels right.

I'm just troubled, and I'm tired of speaking with you on my mind for months,
I'm setting it free,
My feelings,
My words,
And maybe, just maybe,
The last strands of you.
J Valle Jun 2017
I used to write what my soul poured,
Let the words set themselves,
Anguish and despair were all I wore,
A flame and a cig were my only friends;

It made me feel like Bukowski,
Drowned in words filled with sorrow,
With a broken heart because of him,
But now that it's all over;

I only write out of habit,
He took my poetry when he left
Like Alice through the hole of a rabbit,
And disappeared witht the perfect theft;

I'm trying to figure out
What to write about,
The new boy who hasn't come out?
Or the man who craves for my mouth?

But my poetry, my poems,
The only thing I was proud of,
Are the ones who suffer the most,
They're lacking the fuel that ignited them,
I let them all be about men,
And what was the cost?
I've obliterated them.

My poetry is dead.
Like my soul hopes to be.
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