Half-Baked Innocence

Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.

It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.

What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.

You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.

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All In Passing

He thins me, to which my response is a laugh. A woman, looks at me as she overhears and laughs to which I wonder if it is part mockery. No matter, for I still maintain civility. I am small, but as the man said, a thin that will not break. Perhaps I am almost rubber band-like—my body with its refusals to fray as I spread myself out larger than she thought ever possible.

I Needed the Light

Asteroids are falling into my atmosphere, their burning traces, crystal prisms.

They dig deep into my chest, opening spaces where perhaps leaves will grow after we sow this burned soil.

Flutters of color like butterfly wings whispering pieces of song that sirens can nice upon a time would sing.

Maybe these leaves will be blown to the water when the gusts pick up as none of this matters.

Enduring

From where enters your strength, your will to live? It reminded of how battered and bruised I have been. A memory of black clouds coming down onto me haunts my head and I had hoped that I had healed that trauma, but they asked me: where does that strength come from? There were no good answers to that question. Perhaps it was this ancestral DNA or my mother’s mitochondrial DNA that let me live though the struggle. How ungrateful I must seem, to have that survivor’s will and to hate the act of having to survive. She must look at me with disdain or maybe with pity at knowing that her scars are inscribed into my genetic makeup too.

Why have you stayed? I am asked this question, not in so many words. Sadly, no responses escape because I hold the gates tightly shut for fear of being seen as the fool. Who could have thought that this would be the woman striving to bear the fruits of my labor—so hindered by a simple soul?

Wishing for Rain

I don’t take drastic measures, they must seem that way. I only take measures to reach what I hope to achieve. Last year I learned when I should cut back the ill growth of this fragrant rose bush that I am trying to cultivate. I have already learned this year when to let go of leaves that are meant to fall. For the greater good, I make choices because there is no point in holding on to thinly dangling foliage. I have also been in the process of learning how to fertilize and in learning when it is necessary to cut back excessive growth–My roots dig in deeper into this rich soil. It is all love in this horizon; it’s just that love sometimes might hurt a little in some places. I hope I have the willpower to heed the words of the wise and the courage to stand alone as I cultivate this Golden Celebration.

Dark Beauty

She was an inspiration to me.

Her easygoing nature

The darkness within her

Still, she lived unforgivingly.

 

Norms did not impede her like they did me.

Her dress was dark and long

The photographs with him

Still for Love, she lived willingly.

 

I wanted her courage.

Her ability to simply be

The human she wanted

Still, there I sat longingly.

Lo que quedó/What Remained

Lo que quedó

 

No entiendes que lo que mas mata es el no querer. El no quiero responder, el no quiero reconocer, no quiero ver la verdad. El no quiero persistir en conversaciones desfavorables, no quiero dejarte saber los pensamientos que existen en mi. No notas que el no querer me causa animosidad, desafío, y el desvanecimiento de sentimientos que he trabajado diligentemente para construir dentro de mi. Aquí dentro existe un vacío que no llenas, una puerta cerrada, y un vaivén de colores oscuros cuando tus palabras son insignificantes. Eso no significa que no valoro, que no entiendo, que no quiero. Eso solo significa que no permaneceré una instalación de constelaciones dentro de tus memorias.

 

Darle saludos al espacio que pronto será lo único que te quedará de mi.

 

————

 

What Remained

 

You do not understand that what kills most is not wanting to. The not wanting to answer, the I do not want to admit, I do not want to see the truth. I do not want to persist in unfavorable conversations, I do not want to let you know the thoughts that exist in me. You do not notice that not wanting causes animosity, defiance, and the fading of feelings that I have worked diligently to build within me. Here inside there is a void that you do not fill, a closed door, and a sway of dark colors when your words are insignificant. That does not mean that I do not value, that I do not understand, that I do not want to. That just means that I will not remain a fixture of constellations inside your memories.

 

Greet the space that will soon be the only thing you’ll have left of me.