Poem #212

Don’t kick open a door and
tell someone to leave just to
stay surprised when they do
exactly that. It’s not strength,
you are not powerful for doing that.
Strength is being vulnerable enough
to ask someone to stay.

Poem #208

Your intentions and feelings were pure
but his were clouded by what happened to him.
You were always in the shadow of his ex,
carrying a burden because of her sins.
Her ghost was sleeping between you two
his trust was unavailable to you because
in the past he gave it to her.
Your heart hurts when he puts you on her level,
you try so hard to show him you are better.
Aren’t you a bit too smart to be doing time
when you didn’t do the crime?

Poem #185

Love is what happens when two wholes
combine in a feeling higher than themselves.
Attachment is what comes to life when two
broken pieces try desperately to act like
they are a puzzle.

Poem #49

There you are again. In your bed,
overthinking situations that happened
months ago, coming up with excuses
for his behavior, still giving him the
love you are supposed to give yourself.
You think that unclenching your fists
and letting go of him will hurt you.
The truth is that clenching your fists,
trying to hold on to his memory is just
making your nails sink deeper into your
skin, making the blood flow in rivers
across your tired, young body.

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Poem #45

I love picture perfect, poetry
worthy scenes in my life.
One of those was you in your
sweatpants drinking coffee
on the terrace while I was in your
shirt, sitting in your lap.
The smell of autumn was in the air
but in the bedroom her body heat
was still all over the bed I just slept in.

As I said, picture perfect, poetry
worthy. You in the sweatpants she
loved for you to wear and me, your
rebound in your shirt, sitting in your
lap hoping you won’t run back to your ex.
I never said the picture was colorful
or that the poetry had a happy end.

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Forever and never

Today I’m locking our memory in a box
in my mind and I’ll give one key to you
if you would like to have it. I can’t get rid
of these feelings but I can contain them.
We will be together forever and never, together and apart.

Somewhere in the mind we will create a place that
will be completely ours and there we will live out a
life ‘till we’re old but we will never again hold hands,
kiss during a movie, spend sleepless nights together.

Even if I had a chance I would never come back to your
arms again because I can’t go through this again.
I prefer our Neverland.
I prefer you stay my forever and never, together and apart.

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The Breaking Sound

A wide smile on every single picture, but when you see her in person you claim her bitch face brings an ice cold feeling to your bones. You say she has no feelings, you say there’s a hole in her chest but you don’t really care because that’s not the hole in her body you’re interested in. When you get to know her you find a little trace of light in her eyes and you drain it out until her pupils became night dark.

Every time you kissed her did you hear the breaking sound? Did you hear her reach into her velvet, red insides, breaking a part of her ribs to fill the hole someone left in you? Do ice cold women do that? Did you hear the breaking sound every time you made her believe in your point of view? The sound of her will breaking to fit within your rules, the sound of her bones breaking when she tried to make herself look smaller than you, the sound of her hips breaking every time you made her work on top, the sound of her lips breaking every time she had to fake it to build your ego up.

She lived believing you have four hands: two to keep on her throat suffocating her and two to keep over your ears so you wouldn’t hear the bones in her neck breaking. But here’s the thing about women like her. They get hurt but don’t show it. They run to a corner like a wounded wolf to lick their wounds and the taste of their own blood makes them realize they’ve had enough.

Here’s the thing about women like her who will build up people like you with parts of their own body. They will stick their hand into the ground, take the soil and fill the hole they’ve made on their body trying to fix you. She will disappear into thin air, fade away because for you she was never a person, she was an illusion, she was a low-budget romantic movie you wanted her to be. For you she wasn’t a person.

She will be stronger and you will still be running around, scared of loneliness, weak as a leaf underneath her heel, looking for spread legs to contain and hide your insecurities, you will still think people are your medicine.

The breaking sound is gone and so is she.

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