day 192

The emptiness will wake you up in the middle of the night
to tell you it's hungry.
Slowly searching for a way to make it whole again.
End up digging myself deeper
making me lost at midnight.
Starving
just
to feel whole again.
Just because I'm in love with you
doesn't mean I should be with you
and sticking with my words
hurts as bad as mouse paws on glue traps.
We are all trapped here
with empty filled stomachs
I'm aching
me too.
But what am I supposed to do
with a head full of instinct
and a heart living with a
moth infested cellar.
Just believe me
Believing that love is becoming
unjustified
I don't know who I want
to love
I just know how I want to love them
and how I want them to
love me.
Picky beggars never
blossom into happy lovers.
I will pick off apple trees
give one to you
keep one for myself
Trying to rebuild my generosity
but I can't find myself doing so.
Sometimes I can only think of loving so beautifully.
Feeling so beautiful.
I am so empty inside, guys.
So hollow-hearted
For once I am not full of carelessness
I am just apathetic
Indifferently viewing this situation
I'm not sad.
but I am
Soon enough he and my
conscience becomes one
and now I don't believe in love,
it's just science.
Chemistry.
I was never good at believing
in dopamine. I've
learned how to shut it off.
This emptiness is consuming me
create holes in my veins.
Yet I will never feel rewarded
for doing so. I don't
believe in this anymore.

day 191

Determined to fall in love with my blood. Back to getting in tune with my body. My skin has no scars of my culture's wars before me. Starting with one root at a time.






Back to dancing.

day 190

Secrets, revelations,
things that need to roll off my tongue: vol 4


-I love you. Driving with
eyes teared off the road
is too difficult. I have
to fake emotions to be safe.
I have to fake emotions
to be
safe. (With or) Without you.


-Waking up next to someone
new, with arms of chivalry and
a forehead full of sweat
isn't as whole as I thought
it would feel. I am empty hearted.


A poor boy out there
will suffer a heartache
because I suffered
from one first.


Cycle.


-Since when was recycling
warmth
possible? (Never.) 


-I've come to the point where
I don't want to fall out of
love
ever again.
I am still holding on,
clinging,
hanging for a chance
that my heart will change
her mind.
Sometimes she likes to take
chances.
Fickle...


-I am still in love with
my past lovers. (I am still
in love with Jasper.)
Very much so.
(I used a specific name in my piece to prove)
No one can
...
..
...I don't know what I want..
I just want to feel
whole
alone.
Someday I will..

day 189

Friendship


  Keep me warm on this Spring feeling Winter
  The days are getting brighter
  I love our efforts
  tying us into one spirit
  These are memories I


  will carry with
  snowflake type palms
  Praying for a messenger
  has become relieving 

day 188

watch her leave your life

like

smoke

Wrap me in your

regret.

It's starting to

become

easier

to not care.

I didn't know

acting would become

one with

my own skin.

day 187

Happy Anniversary

Two beautiful lovers

  proving love can overcome the impossible.

  I can only dream of loving

  someone as

  powerful.

day 186

They think I am beautiful.
   Blindly. Take a glimpse
   with your fingertips.
   Burn your heritage into me. Teach
   me directly, how a cultured woman
   should feel.
   New lovers alway ask:
      What are your ethnic roots
Simple to be beautiful with
   blood boiled by lovers of distant lands
   But they all speak different love languages
   tonight.


Mother says
         Do not forget your culture
         Plant seeds for beautiful babies.
         Multicultural souls.
         You are blessed to have
         colorful blood.
Blessed. But what good is
   color if my cultures aren't
   printed in black and white.
   With no direction to how I
    am supposed to behave, love,

How am I supposed to love
if I cannot trace
body parts to bone yard
answers. I feel like a stranger
in my own skin, sometimes.

day 185

But as the weather gets a little better,
and the sun starts dancing again,
I feel slightly stronger.
I want to
grab you by the hand
sing notes in between your fingers,
let them kiss the inner tips of your
palms,
Pray for a messenger
who has already arrived.
He was buried in the numb
of the night,
invisible to the eyes of my heart.
Acknowledgement.
Realize you are beautiful
just the way you are..carelessness..
recklessness. You are
happy
because you are beautiful,
and likewise vice versa. Smile
because you know it's
what you were born to
cherish.
Like we live in a universe
where black holes steal our stars
only to bury treasures
light years deeper
in our souls.
Someday we will all find
our happiness. Some days
this seems light years away.
But it will be feather
weightless.
And you will feel
as beautiful as you deserve 
to feel.

day 184

719amIstillDon'tknowWhati'mSupposedtoTellyouOrwhy

502pm
Dear Heart:

Nothing
is
going
to
change.
Remain
strong.

831pm
I've become numb enough to match words with rhythms. Songbird free, tonight, we'll just be strangers for tonight.

day 183

Whatever is a lover to do... I love you as poorly as I can. Too eager to love you richly, we are a rags to happy bedtime lullaby.

day 182

honestly don't know why you care
    what i think
of what you do


this is your life. Yes
      I am your best friend Yes
I care about what you do.
but I am aware of your best intentions.
Love is confusing
don't be confused. Cherish
the unknown emotions you are
harboring,
let it flood your thoughts. Yes
cry
it all
out.
It's wet here     but anything is better than a drought

day 181

I've finally found weightless again.

She sounds like I don't care but I'm happy

She feels like brand new love making

This isn't the first time

but this is a first. She loves like

cut lips from chapped Winter winds

I love you with a heart so cold

but I don't care

said

I'm much more happier not caring

there's nothing left to do

but to let life swim through your

broken heart.

Allow your heart strings to

keep you afloat.

Do not drown.

Float.

Weightlessly.

day 180

to the loves I've lost, and the losses I've loved


SPRING 2007      This is the time I met the love of my life.
I was 14. We hung out at the park on a rainy afternoon. The next day,
we went to the movies. It ended, then I broke up with him.
And it rained.


APRIL 2008         Her name was Christina.


SUMMER 2009     I was with a boy who abused me. I saw him
the other night out of pure coincidence. I still get weak in the knees.

WINTER 2010      The freezing cold made me numb. I loved someone
who loved to leave. And I loved to watch him come back. Numb.
He's dating my cousin now.

Dumb.


JULY 2011              I fell in love with Jamaica Osorio, and a bunch of other girls, but she's the only one who I still think of. Her voice keeps my winter warm. I still miss you 180 days strong. I don't talk to you anymore. I know I shouldn't.

I also fell in love with a boy who likes boys. His way of loving someone broke my heart. Because I lacked a penis and probably an attractive aura. You are beautiful, Mr. Luke.


SUMMER 2011      This is the time I met the love of my life.
Again.
For the second time. He seemed much more beautiful,
much more lively,
much more passionate.

This is the time I finally believed in soul mates.

In loving your best friend, because support systems never die.
Unless you agree to let it die.

This is the time I spent nights at the park,
on sunny nights, dancing with mosquitoes, twirling my hair
to the rhythms the love of my life created with his
bare
fingertips.

This is the time I let someone love me,
because I knew how capable of being loved I was.
Of how beautiful I am.
Of how much I wanted to change the world

holding his bare fingertips
with my words
We stuck like glue. This is the time
summer felt comfortable.


AUTUMN 2011     This is the time I met myself for the first time.


WINTER 2011        This is the time I lied. Not for the first time, but
everyday.
I repeated words that had no meaning to anyone, even myself.


Eventually, you start to believe in what you say.

Isn't that true.

This is the time the freezing cold of lost loves kept me numb. And Jamaica warmth became extinct. This became the coldest winter.

Numb.

NEW YEARS 2012    Didn't feel a thing change.
Still lost.
Numb.

This is the time I fell out of love with the love of my life.

This is the time love became almost identical to hate. I hate you with a passion four summers long. I hate you with such warmth it numbs my soul.


This is also the time I found myself



lost.


And I loved it.
Beautifully.


SOMEDAY 2012     I will meet myself finding myself


lost
again.

And I won't push time with my bare fingertips. I will know that my past lovers have burned me with day old kisses and unborn memories. It will still rain. I will still fall in love only to watch a soul fall out of love.

But I will still be beautiful.

And I will still love myself.
Beautifully.

day 179

Secrets, revelations,
things that need to roll off my tongue: vol 3


[1] I wish I started to save all of my poems onto my computer sooner. Who knows what the government will do to my rights...


[2] I
can't
help
you
if
you
won't
help
yourself


[3] It used to hurt me a whole lot to not care about caring for you. It's beginning to get easier. It's beginning to hurt less. I don't think it's beginning to end, but I don't know if it would hurt me to not care.








[4] I can do what I want.
Get where I need to be.
I don't need to keep up with
hypocrisy,
judgement,
bad government.


[5] My poems have been lacking substance,
quality,
emotion.






I am becoming a robot.












[6] WAITING
FOR
INSPIRATION.
STAY
TUNED
BEFORE
EVERYTHING
SHUTS
DOWN.

day 178

All I needed was a clear view to set my priorities straight.




1. I know that I don't want to be
trapped          in a smoke-filled
atmosphere. I need to be able to
            breathe.


2. I love to plan, I love to set      goals
for MYSELF. But the wise thing to do
is to learn to love blindly. Adventure
alone, with no map. Puzzles
get you lost. It's not a bad thing, love,
it's not a bad thing. Feel cold.
Lose the batshit comfort in your soul.


3. Feeling uncomfortable will
teach me to appreciate warmth.


4. Guilty




of falling Autumn headed for
nice boys with happy smiles. I love
you with a heart Summer warm,
but
I've realized that I am
able to give Winter kisses to
other strangers. Chapped lips
and numb noses     This is how
I know I am lovable.


5. Don't chase after what makes you fall.
Why dig a deeper hole for yourself?
You are worth a million foot landscape mountain.
Hike on me, love every crevice my
body has to offer, but respect the days
things get too dangerous to
explore.


6. Curious




to live how I want to live. Content
with learning to think.


7. I haven't felt home in ages. Tonight,
I am still eighteen. Tonight      I have
finally found the home I've lost.
Welcome back, Autumn.

day 177

Secrets, revelations,
things that need to roll off my tongue: vol 2


CARS ARE BUILT TO BE STRONG
TO PROTECT
TO BRING YOU WHERE YOU
NEED TO BE. SO TELL ME WHY
MY CAR IS SO FRAGILE.
I NEED TO PROTECT
HER 
MORE THAN SHE SHOULD
PROTECT ME.




                                                        MY MOTHER IS BUILT TO BE STRONG.
                                                        TO PROTECT.
                                                        TO HELP ME BE WHERE I NEED TO BE. SO TELL ME
                                                         WHY
                                                         SHE IS TRYING TO BRING ME
                                                         WHERE SHE WANTS ME TO BE.
                                                         SHE PROTECTS LIKE DART BOARD PROJECTILE STRENGTH.
                                                         YOU MAY END UP HURTING ME, MA.


ELEPHANTS ARE BUILT TO BE STRONG
BEAUTIFUL
LOYAL
TOUGH SKIN, TOUGH CRITICISM. DID YOU KNOW:
                                                                  WHEN AN ELEPHANT DIES,
                                                                   ALL THE ELEPHANTS OF THE HERD
                                                                   MOURN ITS DEATH.
                                                           THEY ARE A FAMILY.
                                                            BEAUTIFUL.




                                                            MY SISTER WARNS ME TO NOT GET TATTOOS.
                                                            SHE'S HAD PLENTY.
                                                            LASER REMOVAL HURTS.     BUT WHY DO I FEEL THE NEED
                                                            TO PAINT MY BODY WITH SYMBOLS
                                                            THAT MEAN NOTHING TO ANYONE ELSE.




why do i feel the need to care though

day 176

back to pen and paper vol 5:

maybe this isn't what i wanted after all.    MAYBE
                                                              I DON'T KNOW

                                                              WHAT
                                                              WE BOTH WANT.
you give and you get.
maybe i don't give a fuck.

month #5: maybe this isn't how long we were supposed to
love.

day 175

I am slowly realizing that I may be
   unsure of myself.
   Becoming increasing frighteningly unfamiliar to myself.


This is not who I want to be. This is not who I want to be. This is not who you want me to be. This is not who I want to be.

Lost.

And becoming increasingly frighteningly empty.


Maybe
I don't want to be lost anymore.
Any more
kicks, pushes,
will throw me
downhill.










There is only up from here.

day 174

(Harsh actions.) I have the
right to feel whatever I need
to feel.

Irrational actions included but I
will promise, I won't stab
blindly with love
into the soul of an innocent
intruder.

That doesn't make sense.

Hamlet was a mad man.

I still see the ghost of
what is troubling me.
I see it
often.

day 173

what
do
you
want
to
do
with
your
life?
I am
not
looking
for
something
new.
Somewhere
new.
Soul
searching
part
(one)

day 172

breaking out in hives
my skin is of honey bee loving
  created gently by the sweet humming
  of love making
  screams out to me:
I miss Saturdays.
I miss the weekends in,
ending the week with
sweet humming
we will live like honey bee lovers
     (someday soon)

day 171

missing past lovers: vol 2


(Henry Luke)




I am reminded of how amazing of a soul you possess
Like you hold all the warmth on this Earth
between your fingertips                Muffle your nervous laughter
                                                   with your hands
           It's awesome to meet you. (hella dope)
           Feel like a dope to have forgotten about you
           at some point.


How is the weather in Seattle?
This is an open ended question, and I hope to
get a long response in return.
One that takes different paths and turns,
forks in roads,
reverse back to me.
I miss you 171 days strong.

City bicycling across bumpy eyelids
Your vision is full of dreams
potential accomplishments

Hope all is well, love.

day 170

I am being swallowed in words I should have written ages ago.
Time catches up to you,

I play enemies to overwhelming oceans.
   They only wave.
   They only remind me of how
   low my spirits
   are sung when I am in presence.

    Hello Moon. Tonight

pull tides in other directions.
I have a lot of catching up to do.

day 169

I've loved a man who loved many men

we met holding hands,

the most gentle handshake I've ever encountered

fingers screaming out to each other
STRANGER
I'm too quick to want to feel

these words are unfamiliar
sounds like vocal box.    broken down secondhand
shoppe thrift thrills
trill the silence
with what you can't tell me.


I need to

be careful

day 168

I believe strongly in being true to myself.
Only if I am able to love myself, am I truly able
to commit to loving someone else.


I believe strongly in being fair.

You'll never know who falls in love with your confidence.
Don't feel like you are not loved
At least you are loved by the most important piece to your life:
Your soul.

day 167

Road to recovery: 1st hour

    objectives         to remember what love

                     used to mean to me,    alone.

                     to  regrow the golden heart i
                     have lost.    to remain gentle
                     to     restore faith, morals, to
                     reevaluate my character. my
                     wants, needs, dreams, goals,
                     to fall in love with     my soul
                     again.






                     It's hard to blossom dreams with your sleepy lover when your lover has daydreamed nine times.
   Has learned the lover's language
over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and
over and                  perfected it.      Memorized it. Used it to his advantage.
Lived in the worlds of nine different girls.
And this is where the left shouldered conscious speaks:
  Cats have nine lives.
If I leave, will this be his last
will he ever realize what love really feels like
how deep you can dig into someone
how deep nails have been used
to screw into backs
if I can't stay,
pound a backbone into me.
I am numb.


leave me
paralyzed
in your harsh grasp.
I am fucking here.
Fucking,
here.


       Note to self:
Do not allow me to play unsung hero to a blind man again. Un-sing me to sleep, darling love, I can sing on my own.
I am doing favors with Summer knee bruises.      You are my prized possession baby love.


I've become a trophy wife.












                       Trophy wives are fools.

day 166

missing past lovers: vol 1

(Jamaica)

This is a day              where love is
carved into thoughts of you. Permanently
   keeping me warm during this
   New England weather.
Take me to where you cry,
where your sob stories create
earthquake cracks in your roots.
I wish I could've gotten a better
       hold of you.

       I haven't forgotten about you.


But the days are getting
darker,
much
colder,
mocking me of how I let
the Sun
sleep millions of miles away.
                  Teach me how to
                  speak your loving language.

I miss you as much as I missed you 166 days ago.

day 165

Secrets, revelations,
things that need to roll off my tongue: vol 1

     Autumn, love,
     you are long gone. Today I said hello
     to a harsh cold soul.
     She's shy.
     Eyes wide open--        aware. I do not like her. Today she
     brushed her hair against my lips,
            She's persistent.
            Kissed me and opened my stomach for her to
            feel my guts. I'm too fucking vulnerable.
            I have lungs


scratching

There is so much I have to say

So much I pull myself back from saying.
That is bullshit.
                              How can I expect myself to be
                         a respectable writer
                         if I can't put my all into my work.


                 Relationship:

    How can I expect myself to be a respectable
    lover
    if I can't put my all into the words I
    am dying to say.
It kills me. You are fucking killing me.


                 Autumn, love
                 I thought the end of beauty
                 sprouts growth. Spring is nowhere
                       n   e        a         r.
 This Winter will be a long one.
 With women who want to cut lips on my wind chapped heart.
  Scratchy throats. WORDS CLIMBING FOR FREEDOM.
HOW FREE ARE MY FUCKING WORDS?
WITH ALL THE DISTANT LOVERS
   THEY PATENT THEIR LANGUAGE.
I CAN'T AFFORD TO BE DISTANT.

BRING ME THE LOVER'S LANGUAGE.
Loosely love me with your tainted tongues.
What accents
have your teeth
become
accustomed to?
How many dances has the wind
taught your tongue. Tell it to speak out to me.
Love me loosely with a strong heart.

                                              AUTUMN, LOVE
                                              YOU ARE NOWHERE CLOSE
                                              TO ME.
                                               I BURIED OLD STORIES
                                               IN YOUR DEAD HAIR.

       they have made worm's meat of you.
       bring me to the backyard garden
       where they buried your secrets.
I am praying for a messenger who will never give me the time of day.


                   Dear Mr. Postman:
                           How many letters do you see from lovers of distant lands?
                           How many mothers dot their I's and cross their T's with
                           curly-q Heart dust? How many
                           letters are lost..........

          How many letters are lost..
          Many letters are lost. Lots of letters to many. Lots of letters to
                           barely any.


       Fear:
       I will amount to barely anything. Just a lost lover
       hoping that letters of love have been tangled in the possibility
       of the dusted land of crossed T's. With hearts,
        the lovers of crossed teens.

        She loves her who loves him who loves him who loves her who loves you.


Everyone is loved.
        Everyone is alone.
                Never feel lonely.

                                                                        but I do


                                     Dear boy without a home,
                                                 sometimes me too.




Sometimes all the time.




      Dear Autumn:
      I fear the day your remnants disappear.
      I know the slight crunches under my boot are
      harsh farewells to things you couldn't say
      but wanted. Me too, Autumn.        My lips are broken.

          fear                      one day I won't be able to repair myself

day 164

Sometimes

I don't want to set goals

or even follow goals I've set.

I just want to roam

with dead trees tied to my wrists

play reminder of my roots

Where I came from

 

has no relation to where

I am going. To where

I can go.

I refuse to be tied down by

100 year old culture

told by word of mouth

from an elderly

Willow.

I will grow however the moon changes tonight.

day 163

Cut lips part one



          Peel me
          skin ready to devour. Love it. Like
          if we were the last ones on Earth,
          how much would you take
          advantage.
 Fresh love. I feel refreshed, love.
 You tore off sleeping skin
 with teeth. Gently,
 though.
      I love his persistence.
      It's almost as if I can somehow
      fall in love with him, over
     and over
     and over
     and
           One day it will all be over.
           I'll start off fresh, love, maybe
           with you, maybe
           not. You may be as dead as
           my frozen lips. Kiss me one day
           ,           everything might be
           numb.


Don't blame me for what I can't feel.

day 162

1) I hope I don't lose my drive.
Sometimes I drive myself mad,
     crazy,
          just for a temporary feeling of
satisfaction.

2) Do I really want to be lost for so long?

3) I dream of navy blue flows,
perfect like her dandelion locks.
Do I want to fall in love with her
Love
will I find it?
Does anyone know?

4) I got into a drunk conversation with the love of my life
     last night.

Said,
      Mermaids have the urge to bring their lovers       home.
      Let me fall in love with a man,
 who will love me with water in their lungs.
 Drowning.


5) I still don't know if I'm drowning yet.