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TU ESA ILLUSION
TAN DULCE QUE ME EMPALAGABA.
TU MI RECUERDO DE AMOR,
?QUE LE VOY A HACER
A ESTE CORAZON
QUE DESEA TU AMOR?

MUNECA HERMOSA QUE
SUS LABIOS BESO,
AHORA DE TRAPO LA MUNECA
SE CONVIRTIO.

PERO ESA MUNECA LE SIRVIO,
Y PARA NADA LE SIRVIO.
ECHALA YA AL BASURERO
DONDE PERTENECE
Y QUIZAS TU DECEO
CUMPLIO.
Magdalyn Feb 2018
words cannot describe
the surrealness
of discussing the future, holding the future, like a ball of ice
that will pinken your fingertips,
and in the moment you feel incredibly small.
when your heart ******* aches in the most melancholy way,
not sad, just
quietly startled,
seeing love around you, pressing at your temples
white hospital walls,
sore throats,
*** in cars,
passing through the front door at midnight,
cold blankets.
being the definition of a word.
hating the fact that I'm looking back at myself currently, through memories, and that this moment isn't even that good but i'll think it is later.
knowing,
just knowing
everything and nothing all at once,
and the pain of thought.
teen years.

— The End —