Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Ralph Albors Aug 2015
"I don't want/miss/still love my ex
I'm a hundred percent sure of that.
It's the relationship I miss."

"Not the person?"

"Yeah. Not the person.
I miss the relationship part,
if that makes any sense.

It's the being there for each other,
the stories at the end of the day,
the comfort of their kisses,
the softness of their touch,
the sweetness in their voice
when they need your help
getting a can of vegetables
that's high up in the pantry."

"Not the person, right?"

"Right.
Or, perhaps I do miss the person
and the memories,
and I'm just lying to myself
to make it hurt less."
My last break-up destroyed me.
        June 24, 2015 at 00:44
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
I’m worried about you.
You seem like you’re aching,
Like your heart hurts.
And even though I try,
I cannot pick all the pieces
every time you fall apart.
It’s like putting together
all the pieces of the Big Bang.

You don’t talk much lately, not really.
You talk about your experiences, not how you feel.
You try to ignore that aspect of your life,
As if expressing them is worse than keeping them in.

Talk to me about you, not about what happened.
Talk about how you feel, how you really feel.
Let it all out, keep nothing inside you.

You know I’m here, always and forever,
Whatever you need, don’t hesitate.
Because while other people abandon you,
I keep by your side, like a masochistic dog.

Yes, masochistic. Because it hurts when you’re hurt.
And even though I try to palliate the impending outcome,
It always gets to you, raw, rough,
Slaps you in the face, sinks you in the river,
Drowns you in this petty thing we call life.
Ralph Albors May 2014
The waves softly kiss the shoreline.
Water sprinkles and mixes with sand,
Only to return to the unknown.
Again, the waves gingerly kiss the shoreline.

A dog runs, a ball soars, teens play.
Pigeons flutter, mosquitos bite, friends drink.
Bliss and euphoria take over
As we race to the littoral.

Clouds move, the sun shines, we cavort.
Birds chirp, boats roar, folks laugh.
The clement, alluring day promises pleasure
While the amaranthine tide collides with the coast.

The waves gently kiss the shoreline.
Jubilant faces of elated people
Are scattered around the waterfront
While the waves delicately kiss the shoreline.
First try at describing a setting through poetry. Let me know what you think!
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
Because the night refused to slip away,
I offered you a place beside me, on the bed.
We spent the night cuddling, smoking,
Exchanging words previously unsaid.

Because the night refused to show the moon,
We set up torches to light up the yard,
And we had dinner on top of a cloth,
Below millions of stars reflected on your cornea.

Because the night refused to see us,
We kissed and danced and napped.
We flirted and smoked again.
We explored each other in the torchlight.

Because the night refused to keep clouds away,
It started raining, so we ran inside.
I kissed your neck, your chest, your belly,
I kissed all of you, even the parts you hate.

Because the night refused to stay awake,
The sun caught us laying on the bed,
Only bedsheets covering our bodies,
Only love surrounding the room.

Because the night refused,
We loved each other.
Ralph Albors Jul 2014
Angel,
You who repaired
Everything wrong with me
And held me when I was in need:
You deserve so much more than you're given,
Considering your august deeds.
But nobody conceives
What you truly are,
Angel.
This rictameter is dedicated to any person whose positive acts and deeds are often overlooked by others. You are important.
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
I used to dream dreams
So grand not even I believed them
Dreams about power, dreams about love
Dreams about flowers, dreams about lust

But reality killed the dreams in me
Crushed them like none of it mattered
And part of me felt empty, devastated
Yet another part felt proud but isolated

That was when I became part of society
Following people for no apparent reason
Nobody told me why I should
But I thought it was because I could

After a few years of being a nobody
I realized there was a spark in me
And I could turn it into a fire
If only I had enough hope and desire

So I started a journey to discover new places
See why people were how they were
And I found out people's dreams get crushed
Just like mine did when into society I was ******

Everyone I met once had big goals
But now they were just part of another world
And in that world dreams were fulfilled
But here all those dreams were killed

And I cannot believe how we ended up like this
How we could destroy our dreams
Just to be part of something more
That people hate and abhor

And there I was, thinking how to make it better
When I concluded that no turning back was possible
To this conclusion I arrived at a young age
Although I keep dreaming of breaking out of this cage

Because people only worry about money
They hate to live with a small stipend
Even though some people want to make it their own way
Most of us stay with materialistic values

And now a bigger dream has awoken inside my body
Not to be like the rest, to be myself
To keep dreaming the dreams I once dreamt
To be someone worth being kept
This was one of the first poems I ever wrote. It is a bit cheesy, and I never really liked it, but I think it ought to be published somewhere.
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives,
No matter how important they are,
Or how great they make me feel.
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives.

That is the one flaw I hate the most.
People start distancing themselves
Because I don't spend time with them.
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives.

Can you really judge me for being flawed?
Nobody's perfect, but I guess I'm less perfect
Than everybody else.
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives.

So if my friends are not pushy,
They will barely hang out with me,
And that's why I have a small number of friends.
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives.

A few months later, I reappear.
I expect them to act as they did before,
But I always find myself ousted, replaced.
I  tend  to  disappear  from  people's  lives.
Ralph Albors May 2014
Things left unsaid,
Experiences not lived,
Friends never made.
Incomplete.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
Happiness is like the phases of the moon.
It slowly builds up until it reaches its peak.
But right after that, there's an emptiness
that cannot be explained.
Like all your happiness just vanished,
faded, went away.
And you're left with nothing, in the dark,
trying to start the process once again.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
Would you let me love all of you?
Not just for your quirks and flirty quips,
But also for the way new galaxies are discovered
By just peering into your eyes,
And how you make any flower bloom when you talk.

Would you let me love all of you?
Every single thing about you,
Not just what you're comfortable with,
Like how your voice sometimes breaks up,
Or how you get all emotional when you least expect it,
And how you crave ***, like every other sentient being.

Would you let me love all of you?
From your big toes to your sharp nose,
From your speech tone to your singing voice,
From your nerdy half to your silly self,
From your depressed moments to your blissful days,
Even the part of you that doesn't love herself.

Would you let me love you, *all of you?
Ralph Albors Jul 2014
I still love you so much,
Even after all the pain
You brought to my doorstep.

But I could never admit it,
So I began lying when you asked
If I still felt something for you.

And when you asked if I was okay,
I would sternly say "I'm perfectly fine",
And that I was happy you had moved on.

Sometimes I would even mention
Some fake new love I'd wildly invented
And all the fake love I felt for her.

But the lies were actually for me,
Because with them I could pretend
I was happy and didn't need you.

They helped me live a life I wasn't living.
A futile life with you, without you:
*The idyllic life.
A bit rusty with my writing, as I haven't written in over a month.
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
My heart aches when I remember
The time we spent together
Talking, laughing, smiling, loving.

But time fades memories away
Like an old Polaroid without an owner.
All that's left is pain and torment.

A few tears can bring a whole fortress down,
As long as the pain is directed to the heart,
And nothing is left, but a terrible scar.

I want you, but I don't want you.
Unfinished poem from a while back.
Ralph Albors Jan 2014
Five nights ago, you claimed my dreams.
You took possession of the last thing I really owned.
You invaded my head, and raised your flag,
Planned to stay there for as long as you can.

Four nights ago, I had a cigarette with you.
The quarter moon isn't as beautiful, but it still received compliments.
And we talked about our dreams and goals,
And they all included each other.

Three nights ago, I envied the moon because her light kissed your skin.
The air was chill, and the wind was blowing softly.
I caressed your cold cheeks, and said I loved you.
You kissed me, as if sealing a pact, in front of the moon.

Two nights ago, life was perfect.
But elation never lasts enough.

One night ago, you decided you loved the moon more than me,
Or so I fooled myself, because I couldn't handle the truth.

Tonight, I smoke a cigarette with a bottle of *** beside me.
I sit in a corner, with tears running down my face.
The full moon mockingly illuminates the room,
Because she has you, and I don't.

Tomorrow, I'll kiss the coffin, with what's rest of you inside.
And I know you aren't there anymore, and it's just your mutilated body,
But I want to kiss you one last time, a kiss that'll never end.
A kiss that'll seal a pact, so the moon knows you'll forever be mine.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
You carved your name in my heart,
So I could never replace you
with anyone else.

You set camp in my head,
So I could never stop thinking
about you.

You slit my wrists,
So I could never
really live.
Ralph Albors Apr 2014
Three years ago, I got the nerve to say "hi",
And the usual smalltalk followed.
The how-are-yous and what's-ups
Lead us to the wonderful friendship we now have.

But a year and a half later, I started noticing something.
I didn't just appreciate her as a friend anymore:
I had started to love her, for who she was;
I fell in love with all of her, every single detail.

How could I ruin such a friendship, though?
If I said anything, I could have jeopardized everything.
So I kept silent, watching her go from lover to lover,
Unsatisfied, hurt, unloved, heartbroken.

I offered her advice, and helped her through.
I was her psychologist and her paramedic.
And I took on the task to mend her heart
Every single time another person broke it.

When I got the courage to tell her, she told me she felt likewise.
Funny thing is we never got anywhere beyond a few words.
She said she was doubting herself, and I accepted that,
Because what could I do other than support her.

Our friendship became cold, as Medusa's victims.
She stopped talking and texting, leaving a hole in me.
All that time spent mending her,
and now that I was in need of myself, I was absent.

"Everything" was fixed after a few months,
But I was still hurt, broken-hearted.
I still offer her advice on how to gain other guys' love,
While I keep burying myself in the hole I dug.

But at least I learned my lesson:
Never fall in love with your best friend.
This is yet another old poem I found while cleaning my room. Enjoy!
Ralph Albors Jun 2015
Agrio y amargo, penetras mi lengua
como otra lengua lo haría.
Y es que vas más allá de lo físico,
más allá de lo surreal e intrínseco,
llegas al alma y al corazón
y los nutres de tu seno ferviente.
Eres madre, eres padre,
eres hijo, nieta, primo, amiga.
Permites tu cultivo; te sacrificas
para que seres hipócritas te ingieran
mientras discuten política, economía,
religión, literatura, guerra, amor.

Preparas la tierra fértil del intelecto
para laborar la poesía y la música.
Una pareja se enamora al platicar
mientras beben y degustan tu ácido,
y tú, espectador omnipresente, ubicuo,
exploras las mentes a las que llegas
utilizando la autopista neuronal.
Eternizas tu gestión desinteresadamente.
Son escasos los que te aprecian,
pero inconmensurables los que te reconocen,
así como un religioso reconoce a su dios,
pero solo lo valora cuando ha de necesitarlo.

Eres dios, y por eso el hombre te adora.
Ralph Albors May 2014
Leading two different lives
Takes its toll on the user,
Tires him down,
Reduces him to nothing.

I try to be the son
My parents always longed for:
The perfect guy with the perfect life,
The epitome of all that is good.

My accomplishments make me proud
Because they make my parents proud.
And I have to marry the perfect woman
Because anything else wouldn't do me justice.

But then I leave home,
Hang out with friends,
And I realize I'm not that son,
And I never will be.

I like men and women alike
And have had *** too many times to count.
****, cigarettes and alcohol
Help me forget who I have to be.

I get messed up
But never tell my parents
Because they need me to be
The perfect son.
Ralph Albors May 2014
Summer was materializing
When I met
The most beautiful girl
I had ever seen.
A jacket was not needed.

Fall came upon us.
I began to fall in love
With the most beautiful girl
I had ever seen.
A jacket was optional.

Winter struck us.
I confessed my love,
And you kept me warm
throughout the season.
A jacket was a must.

Spring knocked on our door.
After fights and discussions,
We always made up:
The world was ours.
A jacket was optional.

Summer breezed in.
The bed was cold.
You decided to leave.
The world was invariably yours.
A jacket was not needed.

Fall flew by.
I met another girl who I wished
Amounted to who you were,
But I know she never will.
I threw out my jacket.
Ralph Albors Jun 2015
Someday and one day
are implicitly dissimilar.

Because
"Someday I'll find love"
is full of ambivalent hope.
But
"One day I'll find love"
expresses certainty.

Because
"Someday I'll go on an adventure"
really means "I sure hope I get to travel."
But
"One day I'll go on an adventure"
implies "I will leave this town."

Because
"Someday I'll love someone else"
means "I'm not over my ex."
But
"One day I'll love someone else"
means "On to the next chapter."

Someday and one day
are commonly mistaken as equal.
But someday won't come,
while one day is just around the corner.
Inspired by some advice I gave my best friend over the phone.
So, basically, it's based on a true story. Sort of.
Ralph Albors Jan 2014
She liked flowers a lot. And so, she planted.
She tended her garden, each and everyday.
But the flowers didn't seem to bloom, or prosper.

"Maybe the holes aren't big enough," she thought
And so she dug bigger ones, thinking,
"The bigger the hole, the healthier the flowers."

After a while, the garden was trashed
by people that didn't seem care.
Flowers never grew, and the soil became sterile.
She was found with a puddle of blood around her,
deep trenches in in her garden.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
Dear mother, father, brothers, and friends,
What is happiness, but a trend?
I never found it, but I did crave it.

I spent day and night crying over a lost love,
A lost chance, a forgotten friend, a speck of dust.
Everywhere I looked, I saw the beauty I couldn't find in me.
And it pained me so. It pained me quite so.

A wonderful world ruined by a broken soul
Is not such a wonderful world, is it?
I could not stand ruining other people's happiness,
When I knew I would never find it.

Once, a friend told me that just like love,
Happiness finds you.
But I guess the line was long enough already,
And all the operators were occupied.

I shall join all the forgotten souls,
All the dead ones somebody used to love or hate.
In happiness, in love, in bliss, in joy, in death.
Goodnight, and joy be with you all.
I am not committing suicide.
Ralph Albors Jun 2015
Time does and undoes,
builds and destroys.
Time plays with our lives
with Destiny, its best friend.

We, mortals, are Time's pawns
and are subject to Its decisions.
Hence why sometimes we love,
but that love is not returned.

"The timing isn't right,"
individuals crush our hearts.
And who are we to blame them?
Time cares not, for we are Its toys.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
All Time does is taunt and mock.
The fact that I met you,
is it chance or Destiny's work?

Time consumes like a black hole.
We are mortals so that It can feed,
consuming our bodies
until all that remains is ash.

And Time rejoices and laughs and sings,
as it plays with our psyche and nature:
our instincts say we should not let go,
but Time sunders us however it can.

Death and love. Love and death.
They are Time's renowned pleasure:
Time executes its subjects;
Time murders love.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
The clock never stops.
There is no escape, in a land
where everything is determined by Time.
But who are we to blame Time?
We are but mortals
attempting to find meaning
where there is none.
Ralph Albors Sep 2015
You with the draw-well eyes,
and gold ingots for hair,
with Silence as your name,
and catapults for legs;
I shall learn your name today,
I shall forget your face today.

Your draw-wells' potable water
will flow down your cheeks,
and your hair's gold will devalue,
and your mouth's silence will speak,
and your legs' wood will break;
nothing but your name shall remain.
You whose beauty shall fade.
    June 30th
Ralph Albors Sep 2015
On the dawning horizon, Barcelona.
Above us, a quiet storm rages.
A meter away, Isabel,
with her abyssal draw-well eyes,
Silence as her name,
catapults for legs.

Your name, nothing more.
Your past and life, trivial.
Only your name was important
and I obtained it: Isabel.
It was but a physical infatuation,
completely platonic and surreal.
You whose name I will forget.
    June 31st
Ralph Albors Sep 2015
You, with the draw-well eyes,
I know not who you are,
I do not know where you're from,
but I could scrutinize your eyes,
as abyssal as water wells,
for a whole eternity, and more.

You who prance and dance
to any and every rhythm,
I long to know everything about you,
discern your likes and dislikes,
fathom all your insecurities
and make you forget them.

You whose look spans
all seven seas and the four winds,
stare at me forever,
penetrate my self as light does.
Make me feel unique, as if the world
turned around me, around you.

You with the draw-well eyes,
grant me the pleasure
of knowing who you are,
where you come from and are going to;
allow me to study those eyes
for one, two, three eternities.
You who stole my sight.
    July 29th
Ralph Albors May 2014
I never quite got
that you and I
were transitory.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
As much as I try,
I cannot write.
Phantom words inhabit my mind,
And I am unable to write them down.
What is dead should stay dead:
My words are no more.
Ralph Albors Jun 2015
Cool, calm and collected,
She took a leap of faith,
Kissed the pavement.
Exhibit A: Strong messages can be conveyed with few words.
Ralph Albors Jul 2014
It's getting harder to write.

Tears run down my face
As I stare at the blank paper
And realize that it's you.

It's getting harder to write.

This window of emptiness,
This episode of hollowness,
Is the result of you.

It's getting harder to write.

You triggered everything,
That has ever been wrong with me.
But I'm a great liar: "I'm fine."

**I lost my ability to write.
After months of being okay,
I relapsed
Because of you.
Ralph Albors Feb 2014
I am a television show with no viewers,
a band with no audience,
a book with no readers,
a speaker with no listeners,
a tour guide with no tourists,
a website with no users.

Whatever lies within me
is unbeknownst to the world.
Whatever I have to offer,
goes by unnoticed.

I am a passport with no picture,
a street with no name.
Ralph Albors Sep 2015
write a poem about me
and compare my auburn hair
to the twilit autumn sky.

say I’m the most important person
that ever walked into your life.
say it, and mean it.

translate your verses into Italian
and scream them for me at 1am
so I can appreciate but not understand.

love me like no one else has.
show me why I’m a plant
and you’re the sun.

break my heart and fix it up
then break it all over again.
I wouldn’t mind, not at all.

write another poem about me
and compare our memories
to the faded Polaroids we never took.
If you date a poet, don't ask him/her to write poems about you.
Ralph Albors Jul 2013
I write for me.
I write for her.
I write for my friends.
I write for my family.
I write for strangers.
But most importantly,
I write for everyone,
That feels the same way
But doesn't have the words
To express those feelings.

— The End —