(2015)
Dedicated to my sister and our late night talks when this became my catchphrase.
How do you measure pain? All is relative and personal Even with one’s own self It is impossible to compare As memory distorts pain
Some I like to share Fresh out of the oven Don’t let it get cold That’s why I wrote it Emotions in that moment
I cannot divide My heart Into four pieces Equally Geometrically
Antes lograba tanto Metía horas Sacando lo máximo De cada minuto No he cambiado
I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface
Rough day Rough night If I could live In my bath Water would never
A healthy pancreas Is like a transmission Seamlessly shifting gears In type 2 diabetics Wear and tear
I enjoy his company Riding shotgun Conversation No one to overhear Our inside jokes
You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this
The news hit me Like a punch in the gut I threw up two times From the pain Knowing that I
By nature high-strung But I thought I was strong If not physically, emotionally For things to roll off my back Be mature and take the high road
Down to earth I am but of dust Dust particles I see floating in the air Carbon molecules
Nothing makes people flee Like reading them poetry They value it in theory But please don’t make them read Surprise me with your verse
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
I had it all In my head And then I said Words I do not know which ones