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 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
stas
I've tried rewriting him like he is another poem
embedded between pages of secrets
replacing his eyes with sparkling adjectives
polishing his edges
enabling him to roll off my tongue like I imagined he would
I've traded his scars for words laced in silver
like beautiful words would stop the bleeding
but broken men are not poems
they are not to be sculpted into stanzas
they are time bombs
with three seconds left on the clock
they posses oceans inside their lungs
their eyes are riptides
you cannot rewrite the parts of him
to coincide with the parts of you
they may be broken
their hearts turning black and blue
but the solution to their problem does not begin with you
you can stretch your hands as big as they will go
but it will never be enough to catch their pain
you will drown trying to keep them afloat
the solution to their problem does not begin with you
It will never begin with you
 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
Tea
what do you need
your heart for
if all it does is
give up on someone else's?
losing someone you love is hard
giving up someone you love is even harder
i.
You are the only person to show me oceans where the desert lays

ii.
Some people walk into a room and light it up, you walk into a room and set it on fire

iii.
I swear glitter must run through your veins because every inch of you sparkles

iv.
I've never seen stars shine so bright as they do in the pupils of your eyes

v.
I love how as we lock hands the promise of forever finds a home in our fingertips

vi.
Tell me how you manage to turn a tsunami like me into tranquil waters?

vii.
There's not a doubt in my mind that you have my heart, I see it every time I look into your eyes.
 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
Tea
~
 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
Tea
~
It is tragic that the young doesn't know
what it's like to be old.

But it is even more so tragic when the old forgets
what it's like to be young.
inspired by a quote
 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
Tea
having to talk about the weather
with someone who knew
*every inch of your soul
It cuts me like a knife when you claim you never knew me at all.
with each of them I had endless conversations
that dragged into the night;
there was always common ground
and so many feelings were put to words
in those nights

and with you.
with you I have silence
I have the gentle touch of a hand
as we drink coffee and watch the sunset
from your house on the hilltop

with you I have smiles and lazy afternoons
when we lie next to each other
as I melt to the beat of your heart

with you I have the silent "I love you"
that doesn't need to be said to know it's there,
right there behind every touch

with you I have silence
*and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard
silence cannot be shared with just anyone
 Jun 2015 Marinela Abarca
Tea
There was a woman; with a heart as big as the world. And she wished for love, oh, how she needed love. She wished for poems, and music, and art. For nature, and stargazing, and wilderness. For long nights and even longer drives. She wished for a wanderer like herself. Someone who understands. But most of all - someone who loves her the same way she loves him.

Then, there was a man. A man who put his life on hold, to wait for her. A man who straightforwardly told her that she is the thought that gets him through each day. But they were different. Polar opposites. He knew of her wishes and desires and of the things that made her heartstrings flutter; but he didn't understand them. Because he didn't feel them too. And he was sweet, and warm, and safe, and comfortable, and he tried so hard. She adored him - just not in the way he wanted her to.

And then, there was another man. This man was not like the previous man. No, this man made every broken bone inside her body come alive again. This man had an inexplicable thirst for life and everything it had to offer and he cherished every moment of it. He lived in a way that he never feared death. This man made her see colors and showed her the world she used to know in a different light. He held her hand in a matter that no man ever could and no man ever will again. He opened her eyes and brought her back to life. He made her believe again. And the way he said he loves her brought her to tears each time because, for the first time, there were no lies behind those words.

But she knew. Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew from the start. If she were ever to leave him, the colors would fade, her hands would grow cold and she would forget what laughter tasted like. And him? He would be fine. He had a thirst for life, not for her. He would move on, possibly without looking back. And that was the problem. Because he was the voice inside her mind, and she was just a thought that crossed his from time to time. And he understood her, by god, he knew her right down to her core, better than anyone else ever has. But he didn't need her in the way she needed him.

Now any logical person would come to the same conclusion: it's always better to be with the man who loves you more than life itself; than with the man who could easily go on as if you had never been a part of his life to begin with.

*But love doesn't run on logic, does it?
Well this was long. I apologize to anyone who decided to read through the entire thing but this was something that needed to be said.
She was gorgeous, all the guys told her so
They told her as they tugged on her jeans
As they pulled on her top
As they tried to get her to **** them
What good is the word of someone who wants something from you?
It is nothing, words like that carry no weight
They are only said because they expect an exchange
Their words for what's in between her thighs
Words for a body
That's all she is
Words for a body
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