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Matthew Cuellar Apr 2012
Take out my heart
and fill the hole
with a sweet ****-
take several bites
and stay through the night.

Take off my lips
and put them on your hips-

steal my finger prints
and get me in to trouble.

Pull out my teeth
and make a bite-mark necklace-
pull out my tongue
and make a broach
pinned over your left ******.

Remove my hands
and use them as wash rags
as you bathe in the tub-
take my body
and use it as a towel to dry yourself off.

Take my soul
and use it as a blanket to keep warm
as we drift off to sleep.
Written by Matthew Allan Cuellar
Matthew Cuellar Feb 2012
I am a car parked in the back alley, ready for a quick get-away.
I am an emergency exit; unlocked and with no alarm.
I am a trap door.
I am a secret safe hidden behind your favorite picture.
I am the key to those handcuffs, hidden in a secret pouch with-in your clothing.
I am the button hidden beneath the counter at banks.
I am the secret compartment in the drawer of your desk.
I am a secret under ground passage way.
I am the ace up your sleeve.
I am a dreamer that suffers from aspirations
of being the dream
that you have
which makes you smile in your sleep.
Sick with delusions, hoping that one day
I might get to be your wings.
Written by Matthew Allan Cuellar
Matthew Cuellar Dec 2011
Speaking as a tree
I am a branch;
fallen from an old old mesquite
by the forces of nature.
I have been able to grow my own roots,
but no branches of my own.

I pretend though,
that branches around me which belong to other tress
are actually those of my own.
Or that I too, belong to their same tree.
All in vain.
For they know not how it feels
to be a fallen branch
grown into the ground as a branch-less tree.

Speaking as a body of water
I am a creek
with aspirations of one day
becoming a full running river
with rapids
and life.
I've only been able to collect small stones and pebbles though,
from other larger rocks
which belong to much larger rivers.

You see,
speaking as myself
I am just that.
To me, you as a branch
belong on my tree.
You as a rock, a boulder,
belong in my river.
You are my blood
my family.
But to you,
I am just me.
Just a friend that you have chosen.

I am a ***** to your acceptance,
a servant of your attention,
a begger on the streets of your acknowledgement.

"You can choose your friends,
but not your family."
But what if your family
and you,
were never given the chance
to not have a complete choice?
What if the forces of nature
knocked you just a few feet from your tree,
only enough to look upon that tree,
but too far to be connected?

Learning your place
in other's hearts can be hard.
Especially when you see them as your veins,
and they will only ever see you as a hair style.
Of course they would never shave their head,
but your role,
your appearance
and your importance
in their life
is completely up to them.
Always changing,
depending upon the affairs of the night
as to whether you should be worn up
or down.
--Matthew Allan Cuellar
Matthew Cuellar Oct 2011
Here I am
to remind you;
mind you,
of a few things that might bind you
blind you,
find you – when you least expect it
and all I ask is you respect it
for it’s never perfected
the art of living
living art
there are many things out there
that don’t belong in a shopping cart
and all you can do
is do your part
to spread the word-
be that little bird,
I know
but only we can hope to show
hope to glow
and pave a way
we are all in it together
each and every day.
You want the point,
I know,
but it’s always so hard
to just say “here I go”
with out facts and examples
some laboratory samples…
but I cannot do it alone.
Just keep these words in mind
let them circle and mix
they will settle with time
and compassion
down with time
Matthew Cuellar Sep 2011
Lover's thoughts
left adrift.
Silence rings
with no sharp stings.

Lover's limbs
tangled and weaved.
No new thoughts conceived
only joy; believed.

Lover's heads
tucked away.
Sleep 'til day,
wish to stay.

Lover's day
lead astray
by memories
and mystery.

Lover's voice
on the other end
a rush of joy
and love again.
Matthew Cuellar Aug 2011
(In the now, once again.)

Baby, I'm growing wings.
And if what you say is true,
you might just want
to do something around the same...
at least build a plane.

I don't want empty promises
or false hopes to hang onto...
I create those enough in my dreams
while plotting my made-up schemes...

You asked
If I can do that with you...
I can only think of strong answers
that are not ANYTHING but true.

Don't act like you're the one waiting
...I feel like my heart is palpating
when I think of you and the dreams
I wish were true.

Can't we please just rewind...
I now know your mistakes
and mine.

Just don't promise that we can start again
unless you're serious, this time
about letting me in.
Written by Matthew Allan Cuellar
Matthew Cuellar Jun 2011
You've changed something inside of me,
it came about as a swelling tide of intangibles
peeking just over the horizon.

A silence of the mind
vainly bracing for the impact.
The under current,
the rip tide,
will surely pull me under.

I just go,
I let it carry me
to where I need to be.

I just go,
let it wash away my sins
to be left
at the bottom of the sea.

I just go,
I give in to the everything
that I cannot see.

and I'm swept away
to another world...
hopefully you'll catch up with me.
Written by Matthew Allan Cuellar
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