it's been six months
since i threw in the towel
yet i still look at you
as if
you put the stars in the sky

I wanted
To cry out
To you...
But
I can't be
That girl
That cries out
Only for
A morsel
Of your
Attention.
I want to be
So much more
Than that.
I want to be
The girl
That
You hear
In the
S I L E N C E
and already
Know
She's there.

As brave as a poet who knows
That this is too important for prose,
Willing to reveal his inner becoming
And patient enough to show
Not tell what He's telling,
Nor too intent on bringing
The thought down to land,
Happy to leave it hovering
Leaving us to understand
That the truth is more often
Found in the hearing
And not available on demand.
So whoever has ears to hear,
Let them hear this Son of Man.

Look...
The day will come where it takes a mortician
to show you there are worse things than your depression.
Death and/or dismemberment.
It's not just a falsified insurance claim.
The day you fell to your knees and wept over the great pacific ocean
In the city of angels you were humbled by its majestic potion.
A message in a bottle sent.
Or it was swept carelessly away in the rain.
The day you spoke about your loneliness sitting in an upright-coffin-confession.
Adjacent to the man who ***** children to make himself feel... more... man.
Literally, I meant.
Did that yet distract your pain?
The day you cried to the doctor about your back and lack of motion.
She had just finished up hospice for her cancer-ridden husband over the phone.
Off to die, he was sent.
But, oh, that little tiny pain.
The day you complained to your flat-mate about your job being so mundane.
As she opened the letter from her employer who fired her, after ****** her, to avoid the human resource claim.
You were hell-bent.
As she went insane.
The day you cried to your best friend about your second wedding being destroyed by the rain.
He was a man who had never felt the embrace of love, the ability to cherish, the passion and pain of a woman, he had paralyzed legs, no woman had ever loved him.
Booooooo-hoo your costume got wet.
You've never even tried to see anothers suffering.

They are coming after me...
I can hear them braking the chains...
Screams, cries, silence...

Silence at once,
Is it over?
Am I saved?

Screeching...
I hear screeching, crying and screaming...
They are coming for me!

I hear them,
They are everywhere,
Spinning in circles,
All around me they've come for me!

I hear them.
I hear my inner demons.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

It's hard to believe that you exist.
Outside of my own guilt.