keep focusing on the bad between us
because our good is never good enough
keep focusing on the past with her
because your present with me isn’t enough
keep ignoring me for them
because my words will never be provoking enough
keep telling your pen and paper im not worth your time
because ill still sit here breaking my heart in two
all for you.
i knew i had to leave him
not because i didnt care, because God knows I did.
but because he didnt inspire me
no words of love came to me when i looked at him
i did not think it was adorable how his nose was crooked
i did not think the way his hair flopped over was imperfectly perfect
i did not think that even in his saddest, angriest, or generally unhappy states that he was still somehow wonderful in a jaw-dropping, ‘god youre still so perfect even like this’ way.
i write poetry, thats what i do
and all i could write about him was how supportive and comforting he was.
it became one sided
being near him was draining;being with him was a chore.
i was becoming the type of person
that he would be writing the sad words about
i was giving him the distance
he could feel in his heart
even when we were together.
and i couldnt continue on like that
i couldnt let myself become a monster to him
one of the monsters even i write about at night.
he loved me
but he loved his pain more
i pulled him into the bathroom once, it was dark
his warm fingers had gently plucked at my heart
for some time
the way we kissed was art
his rhetoric far surpassed mine
he'd ask me how my day was,
i proceed to word vomit
i'd talk about the most useless shit
when i ask him about his,
i get a shakespearean fucking sonnet
i am not good at thinking things all the way through
and that is why i fell so deeply for you
we loved each other
with a love too catastrophic
for mere teenage vessels
it was too demanding
required too much thinking
made us bleed
our hearts were baby birds
being forced by this magnitude
of feelings to jump
without knowing how to fly.
our hearts were still
starting to learn
how to love -
and it was too early.
it was too strong.
it was too high.
we were too young.
I was sitting there thinking about oneness.
I’m not sure what I was thinking about or if it could even be considered thinking in any kind of meaningful way.
It was just a vicious cycle…how, how not, how?
I was thinking so hard I let my hand brush the curve of my breast—and he noticed.
His eyes glanced and flickered and the flicker said,
“what just happened?
Was she thinking about something?
Was she thinking about me?
Was it for me?”
then he remembered I was contemplating oneness
and everyone else
was contemplating oneness
and this is not the time nor the place.
Oh, how my heart aches with such sweet sorrow.
Your presence in these thoughts of mine, bring forth something so sweet.
Kneeling to inhale a freshly bloomed rose in the break of spring is what you are.
A rose you are my love.
A character I face many times a week.
Oh, how you cause my knees to go weak and my hands shaky.
Oh, what sweet sorrow when for just a moment, your wrists touches mine.
When your fragrance sways my way.
For just a moment, our spirits become aligned.
The same breath is taken from this dream that stands still.
For a moment, it all becomes real.
Then the noise settles in.
The pace surrounding now back in motion.
The cloud my heart rest on vanishes.
Only now hanging from a thread of hopeful thought.
Did he enter into that realm along with me? Or was I alone in my travels?
Oh! But his eyes say so much, yet nothing at all! Can it be all I see is my own reflection in those glossy eyes staring back at me?
- Josephine M. Zeceña
some mornings, as I watch the sky turn back to blue,
I think about how much prettier it would be with you.
how all the love in my heart would paint the sky bluer than blue.
how your eyes would match the sky and their sparkle the sun.
your smile would be the same shade as the clouds.
I am shaken with the realization that everything in nature leads me back to you.
because the moment I think to forget you, my heart swoops me back to the smell of morning dew,
and the memory of the cool wind hits my face and it makes me imagine that's what it must be like to kiss you.