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Anna Elguera Oct 2014
I saw your hands
brush against my fingertips last night
and stared while you carefully knitted your digits into mine
as if I were a birthday balloon
given to you at school
that you showed off with excitement and pride

I saw you stare at me last night
while I floated in the corner of your room
slowly sinking as the hours passed by

talking in a room full of helium
your voice rose octaves
my eyes never left you

I woke up this morning
touching nothing but my own floor.
Popped by reality.
Anna Elguera Jul 2014
we've been fighting over the same things for thousands of years
religion, money, power, land
things that keep us separate
things that keep us fighting

keeping us in the dark

shouldn't we have realized by now
that categorizing humans stagnates progression

because when you're blinded by

ego
hate
ignorance

"differences"

how will you know which direction is forward?

What makes us different
can not compare
to reasons we're the same.

we're the same, don't they understand?

'they' love
we love

'they' pretend salt water has never flooded their eyes
and us,
well, we pretend too.

And though we have yet to see their tears,
and they have yet to notice ours

the blind can still feel
the blind can still listen
the blind can still hope
the blind can still pretend

Pretending we don't all shut our eyes every night,
hoping things will be alright.

hoping blindly
they/us/we
will open our eyes tomorrow

and stop fighting those who love and cry like us.
Realize how alike we humans are.
Anna Elguera Jun 2014
I know I'm supposed to be taking it all in..
Enjoying the moments as they pass,
But how can I?
When my mind is directly focused on how empty my hands will feel
as I stare out an airplane window
35,000 feet above and beyond your reach.
And while new frames and background will fill my vision
none will be as interesting
as your eyes
changing shades right in front of me.

I'd never have enough time
to take you all in.
Anna Elguera May 2014
poetry is the only thing that really makes sense.
writing
trying to make sense
of what we're doing
what it means
cough cough
lifeismeaningless
see im not really sure of a lot of **** things to be honest
just floating along
cemented to this worldliness by gravity
made of chemicals
space dust and star stuff
wondering
wandering
"what is anything" she inquires
to a poem written a thousand times
writing to be revised
writing to make sense
this doesnt make any ******* sense
not even gonna try to edit this ****

acid is fun.

nothing is everything
Anna Elguera May 2014
my mind always jumps to the back of that car
climbing that hill
for what seemed like a foreign lifetime
with the sun present in my peripherals
but as though it had abandoned me
left in the dark
left in the nothing



how do you make everything out of nothing?
dont listen to me im on drugs


or maybe you should listen even closer idk
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