No se.

I was listening to music ayer en el tren, y me ocurrio esto..

There's nothing left for me to do,
I cannot love you as I once had,
and I can not impersonate who I used to be.
Renditions of our past sprinkle before me
disguised as monsters in these pages.
What had been good turned sour
because I loved you and loved me.
Maybe too much.
But as it withered you looked to another,
for comfort,
And for that I cannot forgive you.
You shattered the pieces and sent them into
extremities far beyond our reach,
or our will.

Otro mas...
As these painful songs play back to back
and they smack me with memories of yesteryear,
I feel my heart swell and tear ducts sweat.
My lips quiver.
I bite down until I taste blood,
determined not to let them get to me.
Not to let you get to me.


This one's from Sunday night...

How slowly a heart can break.
Little by little you see a bit clearer,
and as you try to put back the pieces
you realize that they don't fit.

You're a different person now
so you throw the pieces away,
and make up new ones that make sense
and that fit to your delight.

Some will resemble the old ones
because although you threw them out,
they stuck.
And then others will be nothing like the old.

Weaker or stronger,
these are fitting to you and it's ok
to throw out the ones that don't fit.


Shorty!

Woken up in a dream that was not my own.
One where I belonged and never expected to be in.
The pain in my chest is piercing,
my need to live here immense.

Mas poesia

Uno

Time after time I spit my venom into your heart
and you stand, unphased.
All the pain and the fury,
lashes out,
enveloping you in my mind
and all I get is a blank stare.


You don't know how to care for this heart.
This rainbow of shadows that never shines.
Through the dark I try to find light ti guide you into me but..
In my own darkness,
I am just as blind.


Wanting to fix this,
wanting and wanting and wanting
with no exile.
No release.
Only fury.

Dos

Drag me down into your colorful abyss
Inject me with light in my world of gray.
Fulfill my dreams and erase my conundrums.

Your face behind the mask is seductive,
like the smoke I breathe out into the night.
Wake me up before the sun comes up so
I could hold on to the night that just was.

Hold on until the morning dew alers me that what was,
was just a dream.
A haze in your kingdom.

Tres

Here it comes again.
the Fatigue that convulsed her life.
She is a robot.
Neither breathing nor living,
simply existing.
She is matter.
The pounding in her head pesists
and she cannot think.

She is in his hands again,
screaming as he watches.
She has woken up in a dream
that is not her own.
The haze slowly creeping up,
drowning her.

Poems on the train

So I don't know if anyone will be reading this or if anyone even cares but I'm going to be posting my poetry on here.

Today on the train...

Walking down this platform,
black marks of gum once chewed o nthe floor,
spray paint assalting a wall done by a
young 17 year old who wanted the city to know his name.
This music beats in my ears,
it has no words and yet so many.
The stroke of the strings, runnin through my chest.
The grace of the drums,
begging to be heard.
So much to inspire me and yet...

Another poem...
Your hands are like dawn,
smiling upon my thighs,
soft and warm, running through me.
The soft wind of your breath bellows on my neck.
The weapon of your choice inside of me like the rhythm of my favorite song.
Like the love that never disappeared.
I could on forever but I'd rahter not.

These memories resist, persist, insist
to be told, to be felt, to be alive.
I won't let them as I pretend to just be
your friend while with each stroke,
I fall harder and harder.