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It’s like a morning, yet perfect among the rest of mornings. Anticipating every raindrop that runs to my roof to the tip of the land, it was such a beautiful experience to flow like water and go further. My mind was filled with unchanging cars, rebuilding crops and forfeiting schedule. My eyes are withheld of its beauty inside. Clock is ticking so fast, like a running bullet train, sun is waving through the cloud, and the world stops crying. I love rains, I love cloudy, I love the grayish atmosphere that filled my world, I love darkness because it embodies my unspoken tongue, and it simplifies my fortress to be in. Sun is rising so high that my eyesight couldn't contain.

What happen to my black apparatus? My darkness turns into brightness. Everything blooms; everything starts to leave like it’s their own kingdom. I have seen all the different kinds of bird that migrating to the south coming from north, I have seen the umbrellas shut down; I have seen my world like this. Like a bridges of love, like a pigeon that fly so high, like what Victoria’s Secret has revealed. I’d walked through the way to see the marine, to see the mother of this incredible nature, I’d sing to them the Cinderella’s theme-song, I’d dance with the waving trees, and I’d join the everlasting joyfulness of the nature.

In love, yes I do! Walking down the hill, I saw something. I saw a yellowish petals, brownish center and greenish stem. Oh so lovely! Oh so glorious! What the hell on earth are you doing here my dear precious? You’re too good to be true, I saw a sunflower. I saw a plant that my eyes have never been in- captured like this. I saw a plant that is connected to the Sun that had change my life, that had replace my darkness into lightness, that had adjust the saturation of my eyes. I saw a plant that needs the sun to grow, and I saw myself. I saw a plant that needs the Sun more than anything. How incredibly done! But, the sun comes to shyness, timidity strikes. Where art thou Mr. Sun? Darkness filled my world again, rain starts to drop, and flood is a minute away from the place where I’m in… Wait, dearest Flower, what happen to your alluring beauty? Your timeless beauty has timed-out. You left me; you left me in times of my downs, like the Sun. You just let me be in the way I am before, the way that I regret to be in. I’m in a secluded place that no one can see. They’re right; love is just like an illusion that tricks you!

Love is just a senseless game inside the mind of all the foolish people. I should’ve not let you made me persuaded to come and play with sun… I should’ve not let you convinced me to be happy because everything is temporary and tentative. You have told me everything, you gave me the lesson of loving someone, you gave me the detachable connection that commits mutualism; and *you gave me the reason to make a conclusion that even the most beautiful flower here on earth shall die tomorrow…
- J.B
of all the blues and reds and yellows, your hue is my favorite
the tie dye of your soul reflects a rainbow kite
flying so high, sailing the shore of good vibes
down below, the sea otters gaze
at your marvelous beauty
and hair, that matches the sandy shores
that flowers wish to be upon
like a halo of daisys and roses
angelically arrayed, happily.
They say that when an artist dies, God lets them paint the sky and lately I've been thinking a lot about what my sunset would look like
I like pens that bleed
Ink that smears
Girls with scars
Broken parts
***** clothes
Stained sheets
The hint of blood
The taste of lust
The smells of love
Nights through morning
Mornings to night
Suns that sleep
Moons that dream
And all the pretty
You hide underneath
Those pretty
Pretty
Pretty things
Tried counting normal sheep.
It didn’t work.
None of them seem to have that je ne sais quoi
that Eastern - European sleep sheep have.

Tried counting good and bad memories. On an invisible flip chart.
Just like in my youth corporation.
I presented the situation to my inner Earth, waiting for feedback and good vibes.
All I got was a mosquito in my left ear.

Tried counting all the nights when I couldn’t sleep but
I was never good with imaginary numbers.

Then.. I started counting all the “I’m sorry”s,
“I love thee”s
and “It wasn’t me to pull the trigger, your honor!”s,
slowly falling in a pit full of
alligator dreams, just waiting
to bite on my neck.

Sleep made me weak.
Sleep made me spill all the meds on the wooden floor and
suddenly, I started seeing the truth through a pair
of 3D cardboard glasses.

Then I started to feel blue and it all happened so fast, officer!
 Jul 2016 Maia Vasconez
Love
I'm the *****,
the quiet girl in the front of the class,
according to the handicap stall in the upstairs boys bathroom, a ****.
I love, and when I do I love to no ends.
But you'd never know how much this ***** loves, because there is no love shown.
Sixes and sevens
Mark new beginnings
The after-burn is bittersweet
A full rose moon lights my way
Maybe after
When the breathing's done
I can pretend
To sleep
 May 2016 Maia Vasconez
Erin
dreary
 May 2016 Maia Vasconez
Erin
my dear it's so quiet here without you
and oh my dear is it raining there too?

my dear while you're gone there's nothing here to save
so i think i'll visit the cemetery and name the unmarked graves.
August 15, 2013 /itsjusterin
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