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 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
chillvibes
They say that poems
are made to touch
the places your
hands can't reach
and well i guess that
makes your smile a
poem
2
2
your silhouette,
still imprinted in the back of my head.
details as clear as the palm of my hand.
everything so clear,
yet so vague.

Because I can't remember
the color of your eyes,
yet I can still distinguish
your soft touch
when you push my hair behind my ear,
and plant kisses on my cheek.

If I focus hard enough
I can still feel your heart beat
as if our hearts were combined,
our souls intertwined

as if you were still mine.
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
soliloquist
"do you miss me?"

i love the way your eyes
gleamed
under the bright sunlight
and how they are like
little lighthouses,
beckoning me to come
closer,
because your eyes are my home.

i love the way your
auburn hair
looks like
burning gold when the light
hits you
at a 70 degree angle.

i love the
bear paw shaped birthmark
at the small of your back,
they remind of you,
because you felt like
a teddy bear.

i love how you laugh
like all the grievances in the world
have vanished
and so much happiness fills you,
that it spills out of your being
and infects me and the others around.

i love how you cry,
when you sit on the shower
floor
and let the water hit you
and you brush it off as nothing
but i can still see the tear stains on your
cheeks afterwards
and the swollen eyes give you away
and you eventually fall into my arms
as i rock you gently,
telling you that you are strong
but strong people can't be strong
all the time.

and even when you left,
i loved you.
as i saw you walk away,
i loved you.

so tell me, how could i not miss you?

"no, I don't."
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
bb
Walking in a circle is, in the fondest sense, going absolutely nowhere, even though it feels better than walking completely backwards. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I have never even been face to face with you and mine grows weaker and weaker with the length of time between the moments I get to touch you. The strange thing is that, prior to meeting you, I have a hard time describing what it was I was even doing - the storms you have hurled into my quiet life is all I know now, and I never realized just how flimsy my own infrastructure was. I have seeped into the walls you throw dishes in and the floors you roll around on, and I feel everything your fists do equally, if not more. Who knows my body better than you? The places I dip and divide and ***** and bend; who has held me down with nothing but words and sweaty silence that lay thick enough for us to cut with butcher knives? My stomach is trained to clench is desperation when your name is mentioned and I am nervous around anyone who shares with you; a picture is worth a thousand words, but your name is worth one million, and you've never spoken mine aloud but I have murmured yours, like a mantra, repeatedly, groaning in the way wounded animals do and trembling with that same fear. I can't count on my fingers how many nights I traded sleep for a reason to talk to you, and all too well do I know how many lifetimes are crammed into the seconds before an anticipated phone call. People might wonder how I even survive when you aren't around, but how many ways can a dog entertain himself when the master is away? Oftentimes, in a state of unwarranted panic, I claw at my clothes as though you are lurking underneath, and only rarely are you there, metaphysically. I am not the only person the rain falls on; I understand that there are plenty of others who are lulled by the charm of someone who knows nature of a human being in the way that otherworldly creatures might, but in this instance I know that everyone is haunted in their own exclusive way, and you are always flickering in the periphery of my blurry vision when my bedroom lights are out.
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
Anna
Walls
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
Anna
There is something very scary
About sharing yourself
Breaking down your walls
Letting someone in
Letting them see the brokenness of your soul
Tearing away that barrier
Between protecting yourself and lying
The worst part though
Is when you let them in
and they take a look around
And don't like what they see
So they leave
They leave you exposed
All your flaws out in the open
So you have to build your wall again
And wait for someone to want in
You just hope they won't leave too
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
aphrodite
I could write an entire poem
about the way it felt like a million  honeybees buzzing around my insides when you'd grab my arm as I walked past you
and how it felt like each and every one of them stung me when you stopped noticing when I walked past you
or about how I felt like I could talk to you forever when we sat in that coffee shop for the first time
and how I learned that there's no such thing as forever when I found out that it would also be the last time

And I could write a billion stanza's
about how I can understand Darwin's theory of evolution, and why you should never fight the current if you're drowning, and why the moon seems like it's following you on car rides
but could never understand why you loved that girl for 2 years when she stole every bit of your innocence and everything that made you whole

And I could probably make a long list
of different words that describe how you look on a Monday morning
like tired
and sheepish
and unamused with the slow pace of traffic
Or write a novel
on why you stopped wearing your seatbelt the day your mother stopped wearing her wedding ring

But I suppose
that all I'd really be trying to say
is that I miss you
and that **I still feel the stingers of the honeybees stuck in my skin.
Sometimes there's so much that you can say, but really only one thing that you mean.
Feels good to get it all out.
Hope you enjoy this, and please leave some feedback.
**
 Jun 2014 Liz Delgado
chillvibes
i wanna be that person
you call at 3am
because you can't sleep.
i wanna be that person
that's always happy
because of you
i wanna be that person
that you come to
no matter what
i wanna be the person
you last think about
when you go to sleep
i wanna be that person
i wanna be your everything
i bet even after all this time
that if my chest were to
ache with emptiness enough
like it used to i could go to your house
and find the outline of our bodies
on your dark blue bed sheets
i have spent the last year
both trying to run from you
and find you at the same time
but i left everything i knew
about falling in love
on that mattress and
it's still settling there
like dust and
all i can do is write about you
until it comes back to me,
or by some kind of miracle,
you decide to.
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