Listen

Listen to what I am saying
I love you

Did you hear me?
Were the words clear?
I love you

I know I said I didn't care and that I was done
But those were phibs, lies I told myself
Like a child telling themself that Santa is real and they ignore that they saw they's parents
Putting the presents under the tree

I love you no matter what they think of you
No matter what you do
I will always love you

I was sad, angry with you
For what you did, trying to push me away in the most unacceptable way
I know you might have done it unintentional
But I forgive you

I can't stay mad at you
I love you


Listen
Listen to what I have said
These words are true and they will remain true
as long as I have a heart to feel the love

i did a funny thing today:
i went right up to my shower
head, you know, one of those
reflective kinds where you can
see your face warping into the
funniest shapes (i didn't laugh),
i went right up to it and watched
as my mouth filled up with warm
water over and over again; and
spilled out over and over again too,
like pools and waterfalls or blood
and drowning (morbidity isn't
really my style, but i went with it),
for an hour, at least.
afterwards, i brushed my teeth
and noticed the hoodlum shadows
underneath my bright blues that
used to be so beloved by my
scatterbrained spanish teacher
and the sweet lady who helped
to surgically extract four pieces
of usurping bone from the corners
of my mouth.

i think one existential crisis is quite
enough for one day, thank you.

******* i forgot to shave.

today i will look for
chocolate and flowers
and find a pound of
belgian dark in my
pantry, and wilted
tulips on the counter.
i will hand write a
poem because it's
just so much better
on paper, and i will
serenade my darling
with bright eyes
on a scholastic field
after the last bell rings,
for at last i can stop
musing on possibilities
and begin to dwell
on solidity.

today i will bring you
a rose, for the petals
and lines and worn
down world-weary
ravines contained
in you; i will bring
you sweet darkness
in a plastic wrapping
for all the sugar laced
in with your hair and
irises, and despite your
fire and your heritage,
i will leave out the heat
of sacred mayan ritual
peppers because together
we'll be warm enough.

     finally, i will lean
  down close to you and
    whisper what i have
     not whispered for a
  million seconds or more,
    because i just haven't
     had the opportunity:
  *Ya llegué, mi querida.

buried my love in brittle
bones that wanted exactly what I did.
told my love of the mistakes that consumed
in the blinding rays of rage in which I find myself trapped in.
wanted my love alone so that I could share it
but love that is alone doesn't want to wake up.
spilled out experience
to prove to myself that I could make progress.
spilled out my soul
choked through the heart in my throat
maybe if I could get a good look at what's inside this beating breast
then maybe I could count my breath and remember to inhale
and exhale in each moment.
be conscious of my actions, let my spot lights shine so bright they break,
so that the walls I so carefully built
decay
with the new life
I create.

Warm bark, smooth grass, dark skys.
Honeydew sleeping upon your leaves,
   rhythmic in its flow
Your beauty is grace, old, natural.

Swaying in the wind,
dance,
entrall in the moment of beauty and serenity.

Regenerate the sun and bloom with life.
Your Proud and strong.
Let us be one with the ground.

Feel your roots,
dirt,
warmth,
the security.

Stand tall and breath in the oils of the earth,
exhale the love of the wind.

Vision begins to blur.
I'm falling, hard, my bones ache.
Crush my into the pavement.

The fall through the trees,
your in every aspect even when I'm dying.
The cold, wet forest floor, steaming.
Blush invites my cold cheeks,
before these windows enter a slumber.

Flutter to the light,
oh how the time keeper is very fortunate.
This time, here,
soft skin,
blue eyes,
warm breath,
an embrace.

"hello" lips sync into your beautiful smile.
Breath at this time is unfamiliar.
Dreams, how have you killed me again.
Breath it in, breath in the breath of life.

We stood crowded around a TV.
The seconds drummed away.
...10...9...
We made eye contact.
...8...
My heartbeat picked up tempo.
...7...6...
I tried to smooth my hopelessly wrinkled dress.
...5...
Electricity pulsed between us.
...4...
You took me by the waist.
...3...
Our faces inched closer.
...2...
Your hot breath in my ear:
...1...
"I'm sorry."

Toasting, cheering, kissing couples swirled together.
And you were gone.

Caught up in the appearance of it,
The inner movement means nothing.

It does not matter the bending of the tree,
Only the color of its autumn leaves.

The glow, the sparkle, the flash, the color only,
The darkness within, the silent movement is nothing.

Pretty to the eye, soft to the touch,
These tactile stimuli are sought after.

Astounded by the beauty on the outside
Terrified of what lies beneath. The unknown.

The summer sun is so beautiful,
What then of the snow? The dark clouds?

Is not every silent movement of nature,
Beautiful in its own form and nature?

The appearance, my friend. Pluck and pull,
Tighten and pin. Paint your face on.

What lies beneath? But the echo and rustle,
Of the dead, sullen, dried husks. Dead souls.