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Jo Peta Dec 2013
It was the summer of 2005. I remember being 16 and packing my suitcase with my sister. We were getting ready to leave for San Diego the next morning. That's where the cruise ship departed from by the way. We were going to visit the warm beaches of Mexico, and walk along the golden sands.
Families selling handcrafted goods neatly stretched on the stands of Mazatlan.
Then there was the forest. Everything in the rain forest comes alive before you and the air was wet like one of those Korean spas you never want to leave. The other travelers we'd meet on the boat were like us, and we were like children experiencing the magic of Disneyland for the very first time.
Jo Peta Jan 2013
The blood.
I watch the pool as it begins to coagulate beneath.
Your hair is matted
There was no way I was going to stop
Until I broke those little bones in your fingers.
You moan.
Your cries remind me of something I saw on TV once.
I think it was a dying animal.
You know, like in those movies where they still put things out of their misery.
That's what I'm doing, I say to myself.
I wish you followed through
With those pretended attempts to end a pathetic existence.
Might of saved me the trouble.
I take my last drag off of my cigarette,
As the night grows colder.
I wonder what kind of lies you tell yourself
Before you go to sleep.
This is when I wake up.
Unfortunately,
It was all a dream.
Jo Peta Jan 2013
The steady burn I yearned for once, seems dim.

Like a candle flickers, holding on to it's last breath

I wonder where it came from, this draft.

Feeling unsteady

I see a fugitive running, trying to escape the undeniable fate that awaits him.

What a waste of time this is.

More life, more lonely nights

This is what I need.

I think.

Hunched under a floorboard of an abandoned house

He rests.

anticipates

Those sirens will drown out soon

He thinks he will see better days.

He fools himself.
Jo Peta Jan 2013
Love. What is love?
Sometimes I feel like love is a substance slowly being drained from my body.
I’d like to believe I once had love,
but its days like this that make me wonder if it even exists or if its but a mere illusion that we create in our heads.
I met a guy.
I thought I had been in Love before,
but this was different.
The intensity was undeniable between us.
More than magnetic it was electric.
It made sense.
I made the conscious decision to invest my time and emotional energy into the possibility of something great.
I let my walls down that have been carefully crafted over the course of a very lengthy time in order to keep my heart safe.
I am not certain where we stand,
I’m afraid that I may not have the courage to risk potentially losing my peace of mind for this Love Phenomenon.
If you take the time to read this and have any opinions on the topic of Love I would love to hear your thoughts….
Jo Peta Jan 2013
Suddenly the tears stopped falling
The rain began to cease
Patiently waiting for the puddles of water to dry upon the pavement
An infants cries are heard in the distance of the broken city,

and faintly it’s existence fades.

Someone wakes to an alarm that sounded on the third floor,
Only to fall back into a dream.
Jo Peta Jan 2013
Sometimes I try to find myself
Beneath the sheath of broken glass
Time’s defied, hours pass.
I’ve somehow lost my mind.

I sought through thoughts uneven,
to leave with empty hands.
The lands I’ve traveled and roads I’ve crossed,
and still no better man.

As if it didn’t matter, the efforts one endures
Her demure is just a veil,
she wears to seek the truth.
Through constant clash, she rushes past
Leaves the looking glass behind.
A quake of constant despondency
Rattles through her mind
She turns back once more before,
she’s washed upon the shore.

A valley of perplexity holds dreams,
yet to come true.
The
quiet
darkness
tempts her.
And suddenly she’s you.

She’s spent from all the racket.
As the lawlessness of latter days
Brings death to her malpractice.
Could this be, shall she know?
True freedom when it nears?
Or will she fear it and back away
Like patterns of previous years.
And suddenly a voice spoke softly,
“The choice is yours my dear”
Jo Peta Jan 2013
Through the concave of today,

May I see tomorrow.

For I am sick and tired of all the sorrow in my way.

Might I find the exit sign in time,

And leave this awful place behind.

Blood spills from my veins with

each step I take towards the place

that causes pain,

nevermore.
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