Not a Tale of Romeo & Juliet

I swell among walls, float
through halls dimmed and
endless
I touch the coldness of door
knobs and stray, then move on

I stray, I move on

Passerby's walk though my
misted figure of whites and
grays
But I only look for one
My ghostly heart, if it could,
would jump at the sight
of whom I seek.

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Those bones beaten and frayed,

layers skinned away by a blade
She'd collect all the pieces torn
and sneer at bones now worn

And the delicate nerves,
never did as they served
in moves they strummed like a bass
until you met me, my face-

A caring hand to take,
an easy pair we would make
I'd trace each crack, each dent
and off those demons went

And frailty, it did claim me
Though you were not able to see
I was left ever so brittle
And you did so little

Take not the rest
I have nothing left,
but the bones of me
to sickness, you lead

Dandelions & Daisies

Like a dandelion, she says, but I am aware that no one likes dandelions
when there are roses and posies, but more importantly: daisies
She says, dandelions are undeveloped daisies,
raggedy old things that catch in your throat and make you cough
While daisies sit elegant on their green pedestals,
admired and cherished by all who may lay eyes on them
She says, dandelions are fleeting things that cannot stay in one place
they scatter and make a mess of things
And I say, but couldn't dandelions be nice too,
they can float, they can fly, see everything from the sky
a flower that can travel all around the world?
She says that I'm a dandelion and she's a daisy.

Like a Thousand Stampeding Boars

I know now to never fall in love. Because it only brings a crippling pain not experienced before. I can only describe it as falling and then trying to catch your breath or perhaps even drowning in the blackest sea. Of course, there were great things to this human experience too, but I'm not yet sure if they outweigh the bad. I will miss some things, and other things I will not. I've set myself up for denial, but as the year passes I know that all at once the pain will rush at me like a thousand stampeding boars. The pain, I feel, will be much greater than the pain of loneliness I have experienced.

For that reason, and much bigger ones, there is no one else. There will be no one else to fill the space. I will fill it on my own, on a new course of loneliness. The knights may come, but I will refuse each one of them. All I wanted was you.

My Dog > People

Depending on people is like groping around on a frigid floor in pitch black darkness, looking for something to help you up- but you never seem to find something because nothing is really there. I'm entirely fed up and exhausted by the people I surround myself with, like I'm poisoning myself by my own consent and yet I don't realize it until the damage has been done. And I think to myself, 'Why do you always do this to yourself?' I knew loneliness too well in my younger years, but I got by, and it wasn't because of wretched people, it was because of my best friend I grew up with- my dog. My freaking dog has been there far more times than I can ever count, far more times than any person could ever be or has tried to be. I will forever be a lonely person surrounded by the people I think I need but are never there. And there, when I need her most, will be my best friend.

A World Worn (Revised)

Radiant seas salty and pure
tainted thick with night-
hug the fine edges of the earth
expanding from Her tears
And crisp air is a ghoul-
and he gobbles it up with greed
leaving soot in our mouths

Pain: sawing, metal pain She feels
All Her fallen children lay
in the back of a rusty old truck
And Her poor, precious creatures-
live in plastic packages
or flee for their existence
She will trudge across Her realm
and weep at beauty, now lost
And Mother Nature
will once again undo
the destruction-
of a world worn and dying.

Abuela (A Sonnet)

Blackened beads that have seen the world's own bones
Yet they still glow radiant warmth within
Upon her head, like raven's feathers sewn
Worn, satin skin yet toned with cinnamon

She speaks in tongue I cannot recognize
How I try but the barrier still stands
From Zacatecas, here she colonized
To be with family in a foreign land

"Te quiero mucho" is all we can say
But really that's all that needs to be said
We speak with embrace, there is no dismay
With love we tear the barrier to shreds

The unspoken words, they will never fade
Abuela and I speak the tongue we made

Once Upon a Time in Poetry Class...

I've been sitting here trying to think of something positive to write about, anything at all, and all I can think of is my brief bit of "fame" during my poetry class. We were doing a workshop, which is essentially when everyone writes a piece of poetry and we discuss it together. I remember looking up from my scrambled notes at the mention of my poem's title, followed by my name. Of course, I instantly assumed tomato-face position and remained silent as my poem was embarrassingly read aloud. It was what I've been waiting for and dreading at the same time- sharing my own written work in front of complete strangers. Up until then I had only shown my written works to the very tiny group of people I shared my blog with and a few family members. But anyway, as soon as my poem was finished being read- I sat idly by as it was thrashed to pieces...because they loved it. There's an elderly lady in my class, she was the first to speak, and for the life of me, I can't remember what she said because it was a long pause-less string of words coming out of her mouth. Something about pronouns, I think. The teacher cut in and said that this was her way of expressing how much she really loved the poem, and that her passionate criticism was a good thing (he's had her in another one of his classes). It seemed like we discussed my poem for hours, it was so surreal- there was actual debating going on about it...like how one person liked how vague it sounded while someone else didn't. And then class ended and a girl whom had never spoken a word to me before, came up to me and said my poem was the best out of everyone's. It was quite shocking, I was so sure that it wasn't my best work. I don't know if I've ever felt that good about myself before.