sophia Sep 20

Dear Daddy,
Do you know what these men say to me?

With their
eyes and their mouths
when I walk on the street.

With a grin and a nod
and a look up and down.
A wink and a kiss
and a cat call heard from downtown.

With my skirt short
and my top
It’s a cold world daddy
and no
doesn’t mean no.

Daddy do you know
how these men look at me?

Like I’m a piece of meat
strutting down the street?
With my head buds in
and my favorite song on.

I’m asking for it Daddy,
I’m in the wrong.

Do you know how it feels
not to wear what I like?

To walk a little faster
when I’m alone at night?

Daddy the world is my predator
and I am it's doe,
Daddy what happens
when I can’t say no?

sophia Aug 24

fall in love
with the one who reminds you of your favorite candy
who paints your depressed
clouded mind all the colors of the sky

be immersed in the beauty
you can't seem to find on your own
laugh in melodies
that clog your ears of the voice inside
telling you to hide

fall in love
with the one who gives you a meaning
who covers your world in flowers
and helps you grow

the one who sews the wings of the most beautiful butterfly into your broken back
to let you see the universe
from up above

but alas,
the only person we can love enough  
the only person whom can give this all to us
is ourselves

sophia Aug 9

The heart of the underground
The soul of the city

Miss Latina
Standing on the 6
With her back against the door
And a baby on her hip
Keyfood bag in the other
Praying for her brother

Old vet
Sleeping under the coldest vent
Begging for change
For a world he
Cannot change

Boys on the 4
Selling candy
Just to survive

That woman on the F
Who preaches the sermon
In hopes that
God himself
Would save us from this mess

sophia Aug 9

my sheets know your secrets
my pillows, your thoughts
my blanket misses your warmth
and i,
i miss your touch

sophia Aug 5

tears race down the side of my
freckled nose
which will get there first?
the point on my face
the sun has kissed
the most

drowning in fear
my skin
yearns for a minuscule buss of the sun
the warm wind on my cheeks
the sienna light of the sky

my head
residues upon a pillow
as if it’s been detached
and laid to rest
no longer apart of my nature

what if
the sun is our oxygen  
and we spend all
our nights
for a breathe of fresh air

sophia Aug 5

Your shoe is untied, the nervous man said.
Your shoe is untied, the nervous man said.
Perched on the park bench, coffee breath.
Perched on the park bench, coffee breath.
Bench said, shoe is untied breath.
Perched the, your on the coffee nervous man.

I see through the trees a young building grows.
I see through the trees a young building grows.
And emerald trees and topaz skies brighten its youth.
And emerald trees and topaz skies brighten its youth.
Trees youth the trees young skies building grows.
And emerald the through, young it’s and, topaz brighten I see young.

The nicotine fresh, second-hand smoke.
The nicotine fresh, second-hand smoke.
Clouds the buildings lungs too early for it to care.
Clouds the buildings lungs too early for it to care.
The smoke to care too fresh early.
For hand clogs nicotine buildings clouds the it lungs the.  

Their shoes will always be untied, I always nervous.
Scratched knee on the park bench,
Reassuring coffee breath.
Emerald and topaz brightens the eyes of youth,
Second-hand smoke, they cough.
I care too much, we say good-bye to the building.

sophia Jul 31

Chin pointed to the clouds,
her face
following the soft sunset
saddened by the disappearing daylight
as if she will loose a sense of hope
when the sun
goes down.
Pineapple and Malibu
stains the bottom of her cup
that she stole not seconds ago
from the bar on the corner.
Oh my love,
how she doesn’t care to live
doesn’t fear consequences.
Face still scrunched up with disappointment
as if I need to convince her to stay-
her thoughts flowing out of her head
into the skies above her.
She observes them,
Dark blue
Hints of purple.
Eyes sunken,
fists full of cloth
arms around her knees.
She turns to me suddenly,
breaking the flow
of her daydream.
Only 18,
hiding behind that baby face.
The only color left
in her big blue eyes
is the white of her pupils
in the moon lit
cigarette winds.
“Do you want to get out of here?”,
the words escape her mouth as she
looks for reasons to stay
checking under the table,
rustling through her bag.
But she’s tired of
knowing not which way to go.
So taking off for the night,
escaping her worries for one more day,
she sighs
and gets up,
only taking with her
the sand on her feet.

Sophia Hadeshian

— The End —