Ten thousand words dedicated to everyone and everything in my life,
illustrating everything from love and happiness to heartache and strife.
I never think about jotting down much about myself except for what ills me,
so I’ll use this space at my own pace to try and explore each concept that fills me.

I like night much more than day,
it’s quiet and there’s more to what people say,
‘Cause even though I’m a good liar honesty is refreshing.
I like my music loud and long drives
but I always want to know where I’ll arrive,
It’s not that I’m a control freak but I don’t like to be kept guessing.

I’ve got an amazing memory,
you probably could quiz me,
I know almost every lyric to every song before two thousand and five.
And I’m strangely good at math,
in fact it still makes me laugh
that I was on the honour roll after missing 80 days; I didn’t even strive.

And I really love dogs,
elephants, penguins and frogs,
I believe animals are angels that live amongst us.
I love summer’s weather but winter’s clothing,
I can wear a happy mask or I’m always moping,
It’s not that I’m fake or depressed, I’m just like gold covered in rust.

I smoke like a chimney
even though I can barely breathe
and I love to dance when no one else is around.
I’m good at impersonations,
I can mimic a singer from each generation,
but it makes me question how I myself sound.

I like colourful lighters and pens,
my favourite numbers are all before ten,
And I can keep going on but it might get troubling.
I like to make everyone feel as ease,
And I like hanging out under trees,
You can call me Em but if I love you you can call me Emily.

In the midst
Of living
In this stressful
World of business
Full of numbers and gains

I seek comfort in music
Keep sanity thru arts
Find sanctuary in writing
And so I can breathe
And so I am still alive

far cry to belong
hearing the cry of a poet's song
may I join this elite group
my thoughts are flowing like soup
there is no more outlets
for my mind's full of countless
words at my fingers
and so they linger
in fear that they won't be heard

Hi! My name is --
       Armpit fat hanging out from the strangulation of my push up bra,
       Unlovely love handles poorly clothed by leggings waistband,
       A zebra-striped, stretch-marked ***,
       Shoulder-length, untamed mane resting on weightlifter traps,
       Snub nose on a face as circular and flat as a waiter’s tray,
       Except for the hilly scar on the tip of my snout,
       Eye bags of a zombie risen from the bed,
       Juicy, voluminous, red Skittle zits,
       Accompanied by a mole like Marilyn’s
       (But this one ain’t so ****),
       Four foot eleven and a half plus high heel calluses,
-- Katie for short.
But despite what I’m called,
Maybe we can get to know each other
A little better?

You are an ocean of pain.
Blessings and thoughts rush and become a river stream
Flowing into time as they fade into nothingness of life.
Light's outstretched hand trying to illuminate the corners of my mind
But they forgot how much I love the darkness's tranquility.

Join inside my soul and exhale into my breaths.
Try to not pray, your words will become a weapon
Instead mutter promises you cannot dream to ever keep.
That is the safest option when you are living inside reality.

You are an ocean of aches.
Preaching words that convert and blind like sunbeams.
These tides of time never change, instead just adding more strife
And eventually will cause your disciples to go blind.
But my own imagination protects me against your volatility.

Unmoving on the sidewalk, I appear like death
But my ego is hectic inside its confines, not seen in my expression.
If you would like to escape just fall into sleep.
Ignore all the chastising words and be carefree.



© Sofia Villagrana 2018

on your left you'll see whats left behind
the unburnt lungs and unsound mind
on your right you'll spot a cliche scene
grovelling by the anthill's queen.
up ahead we're blocked by some debris
left in tact by king's decree
the driver's blind but this holds true:
the only way around is through.
so seatbelts on and hands in prayer
hope your God can get me there.
(a man jumps off the second floor
then crawls back through the roadside door
begging to be welcomed back
as if he never lead the pack.)
there's not one stranger in these seats
but swallowed by the hungry streets
do not inhale the asphalt breath
lest we're gifted our first death.
last stop is The Royal Us
you'll never leave this tour bus.

                                                                ...this has been your tour guide
                                                                      at least i can say that i tried.

Save me from my own destruction
And help me with a new introduction
For I am Lost with no vision
And time tells me to make a decision