Because Neruda Told Me That I will Love You as You Are

I’ve waited…
Not on you but for you
And imagined that maybe
Possibly
You would see me as I am
And be content
Because I have seen you
As You Are
And loved you all the same.

Yes. Even as I am.
Me with my innuendos
And morbid fascinations
And ridiculous obsessions
My inability to trust and move on
From the hurt of others leaving me
Has meant nothing
When compared to my feelings
For you.

If anything
I understand
Better now
The sweet, painful difficulty
Of stating “y así te necesito…así te amo”
When All I have known is the bitter loneliness
When all I can remember is abandonment
When All I can fathom is distrust

Sparks.

Kissing you felt like magic.
Spells aged for centuries entered me
perfectly electrifying from your conductor tongue
I was Spellbound
Thunderstruck bewitched
Hexed
Perplexed I
couldn’t understand
Why…
Why had my breathing stopped…
Why was my heart beating so fast….
When did this start…
How do I make this last… 

Kissing you. tasted like liquid sun.
Warm pulsating surfaces our lips and tongue
Lashed out like blazing coronas
Our crowning glory golden and blinding blazing hot passionate
Fire.
Consuming me.
Incinerating from the inside out
The only visible remnants being the smolder in my cheeks
And the spark in my eyes

Kissing you.
Made me see
Past Infinity
And into the newly beating hearts
Of Stars. 

another awkward moment

                                                      Tears
                                                  Are        So 
                                              Powerful,    Such
                                            Curious         Things
                                         They tend         To  Fall 
                                      At moments of        Joy and
                                    In Moments of           Pain  but 
                                  More often than       Not they tend 
                                To fall at times of   Fear and in Despair
                              However, In my  experience  tears   most
                             Commonly fall at times  of intense loneliness
                               Shortly   after   I   have   to   admit  the
                                sentiment To myself.   Even still, more
                                  often than not Tears appear, to me,
                                      for    what   seems   to    be
                                                No reason at all

Sleep

You drag across my eyelids
Brown Irises stained into technicolor in your wake
Blurring together in a Blend of synchronized Cacaphony
Placing familiar shapes and figures into the forefront of my brain

You left me with an incomplete picture
But my mind fills in the rest

I rest
My head on pillows of new uncertainty
Created by your doubt
Impressionable as I am
The
Newly formed
Memory
leaves your imprint in my senses
Vague and soft on the edges
A ghostly carbon copy

I am afraid
That
When my mind gives in
To this impending
Weariness
That has settled in the front of my skull
You may appear there
A vision based upon your ghost of a self
Because You’re starting to haunt me as it is…
And I thought I was wide awake. 

Shorts

I exposed my self a little bit today
was pleasantly surprised
By the weather outside
So i removed my layers
And exposed some skin

To the elements.

i was pleasantly surprised
To find
That
There was sunlight
Today
There was sunlight
Even at night
Reflected in your eyes
The warmth radiating
From your laugh

Consequently my weather worn soul
Found a soothing comfort
When exposed
To the elements of your world
And found it to be not only pleasant
And similar to mine
But also
refreshing and soothing.

Momentarily healed.

He

May or may not recognize
The girl he dated in high school
Underneath
Four years [or so]
of
Makeup.
Beyond
The
Three Tattoos.
In between
The
Five piercings.
May or may not recognize
The girl he held in his basement
Lost somewhere
In
The
30 odd pounds
Of
Weight.
The
six or seven
people of
heartbreak.
The
three giveortakeafew
losses.
The 
Makeup
The 
Relief
The
remnants of pain
The
sluggish wariness of survivors of
Illness
The
Strange craving and appetite for acceptance
Slight hint of awkward lost desperation
He may not recognize the girl he once knew 

Or maybe he will….
Still see her as she was so long ago.
And maybe he’ll hurt
or feel pity
or be mystified.
And the sense will become known
to
Her.

And that’s the dangerous part. 

Tomorrow

I go to church

I’ll wear black
black hair
pants
shoes
shirt
jacket
eyeliner

color only on my lips 

Its fitting for penance

I am my father’s black sheep.
You darling daughter must be bathed and washed and bleached
until she is as white a snow
Blood of redeption will cleanse me
partially
Bits of me will be permanently
there

reminders of the life I once lead
Or continue to lead
Tell me, Father…

What is the purpose of all this?

Is there tough love?

A hard lesson to be learned?

Am I to be cast into the ams of the mother?
The loving, jealous, spiteful mother but mother all the same?

Are you still the same father that valued your social status
And legacy
Over my well being?

I wonder sir

Why am I being made to feel sorry…

Has it really been so long?

We wear black as if in morning…
Yet I live in it…

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.        So why have i been shunned?

Benedicta tu in mulieribus,   Even when I have been vilified so?

et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.   You called me a bastard before I was born.

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei,  

ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc,   Lest we fall further from the grace of Yah

et in hora mortis nostrae.  Let no man judge me…not even your god himself

Amen.

I go to church tomorrow…
I will smile and stand and sit and sing
And pray
And feel genuine joy

But I doubt if I will be the same
As the others who sit and stand and smile and sing
With me 

At night….

when I remove the make up…
And scrape off the grit of the world
And clean off the would-be scabbing from the battle scars
and
self inflicted wounds gathered in my life
I
stop
And look at myself

Take a really hard
Look
At my
Self

And recognize that I don’t recognize my face anymore
This body is mine…it is given to me I only have one…better learn to love it
And I’ve already permanently altered her so much

But

After scraping off
The make up [dirt]
Scabbing [grime]
And stress [grit] of the day
I
Still
Take a good look at
My Self
And wonder

….

what am i doing..

and where am i going to go next? 

I held my hand up for you to see

Pressed single seemingly delicate fingertips upon imaginary glass panes
when All there truly was….
Was a barrier of air between us
That I could not cross
Because I was too afraid to touch you..

But I held my hand up all the same..
Holding out faint, faint
false pale desperate hope
That perhaps…
Maybe…
You’d feel my anguish.

My utter dilemma
At wanting you
In a greater capacity than I have been given

That perhaps
Maybe…
You’d want me
In a greater capacity
Than you had given me
As well

I thought
Maybe
by taking the road less travelled
I
Would experience different results
And
In a sense I have

but tell me?

What good…
Is anything
When you get exactly what you ask for?
When you
Get all of the important bits..
Except for one portion..
And you still aren’t satisfied?

I wonder…
If you ever saw me
And thought
Perhaps my hands were gifts enough
Without me having to open
Anything more

That..
Maybe
You could see my words
And think that I was disrobed
Naked
Bare
And Exposed enough…
Without having to shed clothing

Or maybe even
That our random conversations
Were a bigger mess
Than my hair could ever be
Post conversation

Maybe I went about this the wrong way.

But I never expected
To ever come to the point
Where I had to prepare to raise my hand
in salutations or farewells
 And I felt my heart
Pulling me back. 

Her

She’s at it again.
Her peculiar habits won’t let me sleep peacefully anymore.
An addict.
Junkie for adrenaline
Ritalin does nothing for her
Except get her more hooked.

She would..
Fashion herself a temptress
A real class act
Smoldering Over Sexed
Tactless Scantily Tramped Up Acrobat if she could

Unbridled and untamed
She would be called
Smokey
Only you can control this forest’s fire…
Or Orchid..
From which sweet vanilla nectar flows…

Thats how she would get you
She’d make you look her in the eyes
While talking to her
The long…uncomfortable stare
Of someone peering deep into your soul
While you stare into her dark brown pools of nothingness

You’d find out that she is either hollow..or that her depths know no boundaries…

And she’d laugh
Her vague empty
Rich and curvaceous
Full bodied, vivrant
Laugh
Whose sound left you mouth stinging
Because it reminded you of the taste
Of chili powder
Limes
Bitter chocolate.

She sees people as prey.
A wild and lone huntress
She plays with her target before allowing them to consume her…
Relishing the energy she engulfs in the process…
None are safe..
And none are really worth it… 

She’d make all of your dreams end in cold sweats
Your daymares would be coated with the faint sheen of her
You’d see the bend in her eyelashes in the shadows
The curve of her lower back in the river bend
the cream of her skin in school paint
The brush of her touch on your clothes.

And you think she’s gone…
But she never leaves.
She Lurks…waiting for me to let my guard down…

That’s simply

Her.

Nature…. 

She

wrapped in her quiet solidarity
is She,
She who begs me 
to question…
her being..

I have tried to contain myself
Wanted to resist
Changes
Happening to
My
Self
but she reigns
Supreme
She took over my being

Miniature earth mother
Perfect Goddess
You are not.
You are beautiful
Your smile is reminiscent of crescents
Moon beams reflect from your eyes
Wild
Irises
could not compare to the
darkened tinge of midnight undertoning your skin
I caught myself asking to be your moonflower

Found myself opening in your presence
Like morning glories to sun
curling delicately to the slight brush of touch and chance encounters
A mimosa…
Your shrinking violet.

your fire
tenacity
poetic verses
random outbursts
curious infelctions
sporadic affections
struck me like hairline factures in glass
slivers of color in cat eye marbels

I marvelled at your quiet spunkiness
You made me feel as if I were rubbing my face in tiger lilies in the spring
Foolish and childish
yet overjoyed at the beauty of the simplest things

She does this.

I wonder if i should have told her…
I wonder if she already knew 

ESOL

You were…
Spring time green
New
Vibrant
Lively
Fresh

Spearmint on my tongue
mis labios separados para recibir su picadura
me lengua espero que un sabor de su dolor
You were the sweet, sensitive ache i needed
My menthol addiction
I craved you

You were…
midnight smoothness
dark chocolate sugared
sweet and deep mystery
xocolatl en el crepúsculo
Hot.
potent and palpable

How you drew me in so far
Without me knowing a thing
I do not know

No comprendo…

Una cosa es verdad
We are at a disconnect
A miscommunication of sorts

You don’t understand me
Nor do you see me
As I see you

You see me. as I am..
But it is not enough
I wonder….

maybe I am the one who is blind..deaf?
And you are not the mute. 

Rain Dance

Sunshine
On my
Shoulders….
Does make me happy
But not as much as a midsummer night’s storm

I imagine that
Clear, Fat raindrops
Meant to cleanse me
Drip to my face
As inky darkness
Splattered Black
Smashes into my features
blotting out everything
Smearing me into something
Dark and unrecognizable

Beautiful.

Yes, I know I’m only truly
Happy when it rains
Rain clouds give birth.
Pregnant skies
Break water
Torrents Cascade,
Before rebirth
-ing.
Me.

My unborne yet undead self.
Revived.
Rejuvinated.
Whole.
Again.

Until the Sun comes to disintegrate me.
To Burn me to ashes.
To turn me to mud.

And I wait.
For my fragmented Self
to come together
The next time it rains. 

[Untitled Poem]

I lifted my head up last night.
And saw…
Nothing but a thick layer of something viscous and indescribable

I thought that maybe if I
Reached my hand up far enough
I could pull back my hands and my fingertips would be stained
With the deep velvety violet purple sticking sweetly to my skin…

I wondered what it would taste like…
Was briefly afraid that the layer would come down and smother me
Suffocate me
Filling my nostrils and my lungs with the same sweet suspicious substance..
I wondered so much about…

Isn’t that what happens?
You drown in something so curious that it draws you nearer to it.
Something so foreign that at first you just want to study it
You want to learn about it
See what it sees
Feel what it feels
You want the experience

You get closer to it
Not realizing that all this time
You still haven’t learned everything about it
In this curious attraction, surprises lurk around every corner
Wading through this deep purple viscous violet
Tar.
You get stuck.

Haven’t even realized that you are in a trap.
It was so captivating.
You thought you saw stars reflecting back at you.
Those were your tears, the ones you so willingly forgot about
But still sitting curiously on the surface
Refusing to go down
As if to say to you…”Remember me?”
Lurking on the surface of your memory
You know what happens next.

Trying to escape the trap of violets
Violence.
Is staining your arms and throats
Making wrings around your wrists.
Daisy-chaining your hips.
Never being anywhere visible

Except for in your eyes.

If you’re lucky you leave.
Are allowed to escape.
Maybe once in a while the sky comes falling down around you and attempts to smother you in nightmares, panic attacks, and unwanted phone calls.

But for the most part you forget.
Stash the unwanted memories and skeletons away in the closets of your brain
You somehow begin to live your life again
With some reservations
But functioning… 
Forgetting why you are so chipped and mended along the seams in the first place..
Or so it seems…

Till you look up at the sky one night.

And the beauty of dusk long gone, yet still staining the clouds like the remnants of bad times sits up above you, beautiful
And Deep
Deep Violet.

And it all comes flooding back. 

veritas

I’ve been going about this all wrong.
I want to be lied to.

I want to hear all of the falsehoods and untruths
You could possibly ever give to me.

If everything you’ve ever said
To me
Til now..

Was truth.


Then Lie to me
If it means you’ll stay.

Whisper what you want.
Nothing will sound sweeter.
No one will have faith deeper.
I’ll look the other way
So long as it means
For now
That I can keep you closer
Just
One more
Day.

I don’t care how foolish it may sound
I’m not afraid of admitting that I need you around
I’m not to strong to hide the hurt or the pain.
I’m not too proud…

But I know that if you were to walk away…
Nothing would be the same.

So no.
I don’t mind.
Being Lied to.

Its not for dependency or abandonment issues.

But a blind kind of love…?

I’ll make it work.

Just lie to me.
I promise. I’ll believe.