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Nov 2014
the crickets sometimes sound
like your broken record of a voice
on repeat.
scolding me for making something
out of nothing,
and still neglecting everything.

i no longer dream.

there are intervals of lost
consciousness and sometimes
i am running through the
forest trying to call for you.

it has been three years.
i stopped counting the days.
when you shook me till the poems
fell from my eyes.

i no longer cry.
melina padron
Written by
melina padron  north texas
(north texas)   
476
   em and Erenn
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