Here I lay,
Covered in hay
No game to play
No time to gain

I’m a story they say
With Some glory, hooray!
In an instant I’m prey
The cup taketh away

Do I despair in my day?
Or shall I weep for a ray?
Maybe clean up the clay
Or let the potter portray

A life with no sleigh
A chapter with grey
No sea, no bay
In no time I’m fey

But I’ll try, if I may
With a price, I’ll pay
Might I start today,
In a Rennesaince cafe!

September sky,
O’ how I miss
The summer heat,
The radiating sun, and vacations that come with it
Instead I must find solace
In the slight rain drops
Maybe a little breeze
And the scattered clouds
Across the beautifully drawn above
Now taking a step back,
Maybe the tinted leaves
Is just a necessary change
To move life along
Through the casting away
Of summer
And welcoming
the September sky

I wonder why melancholy
paints my soul a deep red
when midnight strikes,
And the colors on the clock change.
The firecrackers make noise,
And the world transitions
From one year to the next.
I wonder why nostalgia engulfs
the chaos of my winds
When time passes away slowly
On New Year's Eve.
I wonder how I could ever
Say gracias
To all those people who
Taught me, hugged me and
gave me the strength to live and love,
For my family and friends I am grateful.
I wonder why melancholy
paints my soul a deep red
When midnight strikes.
In this ever-present grief of how
Time passes away so quickly,
I reside, I reside.
I wonder why red fades
And green blossoms.
It is the way of life.

I’m getting giddy
as the summer fades
into  yellow fall,
and the sky father
grants me the comfort
of storing his favor
on my tongue-
enough to close my eyes
and know that it will last  
for the coming snow,
the clean pure white that
will eventually evaporate as one
in the hibernating warmth
always underneath.

keep changing then
keep scooping out your innards
filling it with unrecognizable stuffing
smoothing it over for the girl in the mirror
keep carving out pieces of your skin
let them fall
let me gather them then
frantically sewing them together
just so that i have something left to remember you by
just so that i’m not grieving someone who doesn’t exist
keep altering the person i loved with all the tenderness i could muster
and with all the passion, i suffered.
keep fixing so that you can stand to look in the mirror.
maybe this anger and resentment is only masking the grief left behind in pockets and holes i pretend aren’t there

your old name on the bottom of my foot
and etched into fruit peels.
pretending that i wasn’t like a rag doll for you
pretending i was perfect so that the guilt doesn't eat away at me.
you’d even change your name
to resemble what isn’t.
what always was,
but was unfamiliar to me.
keep smoothing your skin over, dear lover
just please
let me know when you leave your old junk by the curb
so i can swing by and look it over
your skin rolled up like a battered rug
your veins as dried flowers tied with twine
some old bones as rickety furniture
brains for mildewed blankets
your heart as the pillow i lay my head on
the tear stains still noticeable after all this time
i'd softly kiss them off you had i been there.
i wasn’t.
so,
i'll watch you strip pieces so you can walk taller and prouder.
collecting your shaved and crumpled bits, in a weaved basket

flower picking.

no longer grieving, only accepting.

I am sitting on a bench full of kids my age. My gaze dances over unfamiliar faces. Everything around me is moving so fast. But I am sitting calmly. I am looking around at everything. My gaze passes over the face of a girl with long black hair braided into a braid. I don’t know her name. I don’t care.

I am sitting in school. The teachers are playing a game with us. We are sitting at a table. We are playing with kids from another class. And she is there. The girl with black hair in a braid. Now I know her name. Rebeca. She is loud and having fun. I don’t like her.

This is my third year in school. Kids from other classes have joined ours. And she joined too. I am angry. I can’t stand her.

A few months have passed. Rebeca is pretty cool. She is nice and fun. I think I want to be her friend. I’m glad we’re in the same class.

I am friends with Rebeca. I love how she always makes me laugh. I love the teeth she’s always showing when she laughs. We spend our breaks together. We go out to the playground together. I like her.

Rebeca slept over at my house. It was one of the best nights of my life. We laughed together until we couldn’t breathe. Rebeca is my best friend.

I had a party for my 10th birthday. I invited my friends. I invited Rebeca too. It was fun. I am very happy to have a friend like her. I hope we will always stay friends.

I invited Rebeca to my house after school, like always. She said she might come. So I waited for her. She didn’t come.

Rebeca doesn’t really want to play with me anymore. Sometimes I go up to her at school, but she’s not interested in talking to me. I miss her.

I watched Rebeca in our classroom as she talked with other girls. They are more mature than I am. But Rebeca has changed. She wears makeup. She cut off her beautiful long black hair that she always used to wear in a braid. I wish she were like she was before.

I had a party for my 11th birthday. I invited my friends. It was fun. I really enjoyed it. I didn’t invite Rebeca.

I watch Rebeca in class during break. She’s having fun. She shows her white teeth when she laughs. I want to laugh too. But I haven’t talked to Rebeca in a few months. I watch her play and mess around with the boys in our class. She puts on makeup with other girls in our class. She swears and smiles weirdly at the boys. I don’t wear makeup. I don’t swear. I don’t hang out with boys. Rebeca gets on my nerves. I don’t like her.

Everything shut down because of the pandemic. Rebeca isn’t joining the online classes. Rebeca always used to try hard in class. I have no idea what happened to her. I don’t care what she’s doing.

I finally went back to school after the pandemic. I saw Rebeca. She had a lot of makeup on. She had a piercing on her nose. She wasn’t showing her beautiful white teeth when she smiled anymore. She wasn’t smiling. Her hair had changed. Her beautiful black hair that used to go down to her **** barely reached her ears now. I almost didn’t recognize her.

During class, I was talking with a friend. We were laughing. Rebeca told me, “shut up!” She was frowning. I am afraid of Rebeca.

I left our school a year earlier because I went to a different school. I like my new school. I have friends here. I haven’t even thought about Rebeca.

I heard that Rebeca didn’t get into any high school. I know she’s smart because she used to do really well in school. I feel sorry for her.

I came to my old class’s school farewell. Rebeca was there. I saw her smile. I saw her beautiful white teeth. And suddenly, she looked just like the Rebeca I talked to five years ago. I wanted to go up to her, but I was scared. I decided to go home. I looked at Rebeca one last time, who was talking to other girls who were prettier than me. “Goodbye, Rebeca,” I said to myself and left.

I hope she remembers me sometime.