I’ll make it perhaps

The light in here is bad

The shadows hang their heads

I’m tired of this playlist

I’m tired of this bed

In sheets that are not mine

Busted strings don’t pass the time

The shadows hang their heads

In light of what they find

Am I really headed backwards?

Static fills my head

Am I really headed back there

Like I’m the walking dead

So I light the wick

And turn the page

Familiar is this pain

The light in here is fine

The shadows are just that

Perhaps I’m feeling better

Perhaps I’m coming back

Always and forever

Never fine

But

I’ll make it perhaps

a double edged sword

At some point it

almost feels like

for such a long time

you’ve only been

imitating life, or

perhaps that

death would be better

than all this

wasted life you seem

to be faking.

But retrospect is

a double edged sword.

It all just depends on

which angle you’re taking

and whom

you’re gunning for

really I don’t know

so

whatever…

..

.

October 31, 2011

Learning now to live alone

The air is still, bitter, cold

As time tells which way to go

I’ll keep warm inside a poem

Memories are

Memories

are brutal

in their infancy,

much more

beautiful in

their adolescence,

yet quite more

honest

in their maturity

are memories

bound to our being

like shadows cast

on a garden wall

where a rose bush

bent, stands crutched

to a stake of wood,

delicate are it’s thorns

our memories

they too are.

her face

Under her face

somewhere under there

was her face, though

she didn’t show it often

I’d seen it before

in the morning light

before the sun skewed

her senses and

she’d cover it up with lies

littered with freckles

hard jaw and subtle age lines

as if two crows took a tango

on the corners of her brown eyes

and when she’d turn

away from the mirror, falling

effortlessly into my arms

I could barely hold her up

for she was far more strong

than any weight I could bear

and her face made that clear

as she’d slowly cover up

everything that made

her beautiful.

features remain neutral

At the same time

everything is happy

everything is sad,

it’s where I’m at

and somehow

it isn’t all that bad.

Smile and a frown

features remain neutral

while cars pass down

Magnolia and “Córdoba,

Leyana y sola…”

my home

is just

an illusion

under cloud.

artificial berries

She’s

artificial berries

passing in the wind

smiling and joking

contemplating

sea salt

or vinegar

laughing with a friend

while she pretends

to listen I grin

because her

artificial smile

and posture a 10

in the long run

really

makes no difference.

to limit who we allow

Nobody

changes.

We just learn

to limit

who we allow

in our lives

according to

their anxiety

provoked.

Don’t get me wrong

people can change

but

nobody changes

the way

you want them to,

nor should they

unless…

Nah, nobody

changes.

the friends I had

The older I get

the more I appreciate

the friends I had

in my formative years

who were fun, jovial, excited

who were wild, eager, and never boring

who never gave a damn

whether or not

life was right or wrong

who just kept singing and

keep on singing

3,000 miles east and

even when I’m out of tune

I’m still fondly listening

to the chorus.

—karma’s a bitch—

I woke up today

glad that I did

with crippling

back pain and

Tylenol fix

but as I sit here now

heat pack in place

hardly able to walk

drink without chase

—karma’s a bitch—

but I’m glad I woke up

if just now to say

I’m glad I woke up

regardless the pain.