it makes me feel like i owe it to us
to write something grand
something huge
the end all of all end all end all all ending
so that we can be remembered
so that others can understand what they missed
the greatness in their midst

(shot down in litmag, emailed a peace offering)

my ego is bruised
slightly barely
look at the purple and black
marks lining its edges
see how your apologies just poke more
fun just make
the black holes deeper
call attention to them

of course i am fine
it is just uncomfortable

sometimes i am reminded that i am simply one of many
a peak in the monotonous voluptuous skyline
there were peaks and valleys before me
and there will be ones after
the depressions of a curved stomach
breasts like skin mountains

it is just that i am the only one henceforth
that you have loved

she may not know the
inner workings of my soul
or the cogs that turn and click
to make it tick

but she knows to tell me when
my plate is empty
and she boasts proudly of my
college pursuits
of my music of my thin
belly that no amount of
concon morro mangu
pernil pastelon
can fill up
and i am one of the names
on her christmas lists one
of the praised singing
grandaughters
when she bends her head
in prayer
i am one of her
names.

lost and found

i found my sweater in the lost and found
i wish i could find my heart
i wish i could find my happiness and my innocence
curled up inside someone's black patagonia raincoat
all the tears i have shed in these halls kissing the waterproof
skin, show me my lightness trapped in-between the zipper
of a plush hoodie, my carefree curved inside
the smelly gym bag
then i'll dig down to the bottom
and find these four years of my life huddled in each plastic corner

give me them back

i am not sorry (rough)

lets all be passive aggressive (oh excuse me i am so so sorry) and
tell each other that we are (not) fine and that wow your skirt does
look so good on you did you lose any weight (because yes you were fat before) and
respond to each others biting criticisms curtly, when told wow your replies really make
me feel like you want to talk to me we can answer wow just like all the conversations
you (do not) have, instead of apologizing we can say
wow how wonderful, that was an entire sentence that came out of your mouth to criticize me was it not, is that a record? (you see because usually you are the one who shuts down conversations)
lets say i am (not) sorry
lets reply to its okay with again
i am (not) sorry
and when we hear oh its fine
or better yet---its ok

i am not sorry

accountable (oneword)

i cannot be held accountable
for my actions
they flow from me
they fly from me
like sparrows on the trees
i release them like breadcrumbs
and they are gone

do not trace them back to me
like a spinning top
spouting off arms and legs
and limbs
i do not hold the answers
i do not hold the truth

do not hold me (accountable)

bad taste

you say it leaves a bad taste in your mouth
i wonder if it tastes like milk thats expired
or celery
like the bittersweet kick of a red cranberry
that overtakes you slowly

i want you to rinse your mouth with listerine
i want you to do it right now
i want you to swirl to rinse to spit
i don't want this to linger anymore

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

how can i be so offensive
without meaning to be at all?
what did i say to you
that was truly
so horrible?

Mi Amor, Soy La Llorona (poem from poetry class--written 11/15)

Take me

sobbing softly

I will lead you to the river

red ruffled dress

with marigolds in my hair

my face will be wan

my face will be white

Hold me

mourning loudly

I will guide you in the ruby waves

do not look down as we wade,

old souls around our ankles

like oysters without shells

Watch me

weeping wailing

I will sink into the water

la llorona

boys will whisper

as they look on from the rocks

la llorona

girls will gossip

pulling yellow skirt waists tighter

la llorona

you will cry

as I drown

my tears

are soft.

can you smell their scents on my neck?
these other boys with whom today i conversed
though i am yours

you tell me not to worry about anything
i find it simultaneously difficult and easy

as i walk i pluck a yellow flower and twirl it in my fingers
the air is cold but i begin to feel it working
slowly but surely, a release

a rainbow

red pills
are the ones
that stick in
your saliva
like strawberries
sickly sweet--
you know--the ones that
slide down your throat like
snowday morning sleds

orange ones
open like the sun
curvy, round, you swallow
them whole,
unpeeled

yellow ones
yank open your stomach
they demand a yes
acidic lemons

green ones
like wheatgrass shots
a lawnmower emptying itself into your
throat (as you choke slightly, your face disfigures)

blue ones
these dissolve
gel capped tears they pop open
on your tongue like zits, out gushes
starburst jelly
and ocean snow

purple pills
are black like night
they take the darkness
safe
and unlock it inside you
they paint your innards
black

you cap your water bottle slowly and
your adam's apple bobs

mirame
sin todo
mira mi vida
y mi alma
en tus
manos

i love my love
and my love loves me
and all the things that come between us
like sweeping subway cars
and white plastered walls
or girls with made-up faces
and boys who claw their nails
into our pasts
none of these can come
between
our love

sometimes i have an urge to throw it all away
to spit on my life like i spit on the side of the
street when no one is looking to take my
report cards and burn them
to take my records and
burn them
to take our letters and burn
them

to disappear into the morning night
just take my student metro card and jump the turnstile
when it doesn't work
take the last subway car train down to
coney island and start swimming
scream
yell
SHOUT
on the empty yellow beach

look around and feel completely
alone

cut pieces of paper and glue them together
and feel completely
alone

ch op my wor ds u p i n t o li tt le pie ces a nd
f e e l c o m p l e t e l y a                                                                     lone

i don't want to go to sleep
i don't want to go to school
i don't want to see a single human
soul
again.

eeee-yuck

so you'll think i'm a bitch
i think i can live with that
bitches are snitches and i don't really care, call
me controlling but i'll sit in the hallway
and deny it by smiling at everyone who passes
and saying hello and i'll leave you wondering if its really true
or just a lie he made up, not to talk to you

derailed (one word)

her hair was disheveled
and her teeth were cooked
and she walked curved
in circular river motions
veering left and right
as she shook

pennies falling out of her pocket
pencils falling out of her coat
she made it halfway across the street
then turned sharply
on the zebra crossing
and went left

writing is like a
simple escape, a way to put
the song you are listening to on your
green
headphones
                                       into syllables
                  to create
               the feeling
of  movement
    of happiness
of skill

                    it is not something we should think about too hard
                                                      as it flows from our minds
  even the dribbles on our chin,
like milk,
   have meaning.

orange and grey

last week i dreamt i called you out
we were walking down the street
and i turned and yelled at you for
the way you are
you looked at me and told me that you understood
but you would not change because
it worked

i closed my eyes and seethed and when i turned back you were a goldfish
swimming in circles in a glass tank
perched atop the rail of a brownstone's steps

my hand reached out
and slapped the bowl to the floor
it shattered on the sidewalk
splintered glass and leaking water

i left you floundering
on the concrete

the leaves fall recklessly
in front of this roaring highway
and i sit on a bench
far too close to the fumes

i cannot see the river
i cannot see the hills
i cannot see the beauty

if this is supposed to be this school's magical place,

it sucks.

unfinished

do i seem unhappy to you love?
are you even looking?

i want you like salt
needs pepper like
a cone needs ice cream like
my shoes need laces
to fit together to make us full

i wish i could need you like
a bike needs wheels like a walker
needs good sneakers like a new
yorker needs their metro card
to let us move to greater heights

i am bogged down in oceans of cry gunk
and heavy emotions like weights on my shoulders

i hate this

every time
its like a bomb

you're like a bomb
waiting to explode

and i used to always say
that about him

except he would explode
in sickening sweetness

and you explode
in depression and despair

dear love 

imagine me and you
in the blue
waves between our limbs
fingers touching skin
warm beams and sun
gleams and salty
hair  

oh love

imagine us
on a bus to everywhere
our feet curled up entwined
our arms our toes our mind
looking out the window playing i spy
as the objects that we chose flashed
by

my love

imagine where we are
when we can see the stars
and it is dark and cold
we feel as we get old
together we lie here
the sky it feels so near

and love 

imagine this
a soft a wisp a kiss
your bellybutton round
your curve of neck i’ve found
your thigh your lips sweet mist
the inches that i’ve kissed

i love

what if i am not made to fit into this life?

what if my edges need sanding? my limbs shaved
down to white bone snow flakes
so i can fit
inside this square

people walk by talking on their phones wearing college
t-shirts with bowls of sickly colored cereal
people sit at tables and talk to each other about vodka and
not knowing where they are and how all nighters work at least
once out of every three times

and i wonder if i can melt into a puddle on the floor
slip down the edges of this cafeteria down to
the perfectly manicured bathroom below,
and slide down the drain
white tiles bright mirrors

slowly.

i want to go home

in two days we will leave
roll up our sleeping bags
and go home
relinquish this unreality
of cereal at a push of a button
ingredients laid out perfectly
for you to put together
red tomatoes green lettuce
white cream cheese

in a few months
we will unroll our sleeping bags
and unpack our suitcases
take out our toothbrushes
our black socks our notebooks
the letters from our best friends
and we will not
go home

This street to
me is magic
the leaves
falling down
softly like snow
feathery brush
lip kisses
swirling in
crimson gold
sunset

ascending these
stairs carved
out of the
sidewalk I
feel as if I
am walking
up into another
world

Riverside
Church looks
down on me
like a castle
and I, a mere girl from brooklyn
drop to
my
knees
and
pray

I am perched on
this stoop waiting
for you eagerly hoping
to pick you out of the sidewalk
passerbyers
blonde dark tall thin
fat young red cold
they carry backpacks and
babies and fizzy water
cellphones and hands
and clarinet cases
their lips blue from blowing
I look only for your figure
carrying my heart

A crowded 2 train
and your hipbones
cup mine
and your fingertips
linger on the space
to the right
of my belly button
warm
you look into my
upturned face
white snow and
apologize
for the tracks you
see, footsteps you
think you've left there
I blink
and they are cleared
they were never there

has our relationship devolved into
recited polite lines in conversation of
how we feel and how our feelings were hurt
where we must thank each other
for sharing our feelings and say i feeeeeellll this way
and know that when one feels a certain way of course
they cannot be contradicted

why can't good enough
be good enough
i feel as if we have fallen
into a vicious cycle a dry rinse wash
if you will, with too much soap and
not enough bubbles: as soon our clothes
begin to look shiny begin to smell clean we
throw in more dirt
we can never be happy with our laundry
unless it is grey

walking home in the rain
i feel happy
little yellow leaves mingle with
the tears of the sky
and i stop and i smile
and i think maybe i will write you an email
and i like my freedom
walking home in the rain
without an umbrella
without somewhere to be
and i like these yellow leaves
drifting over me

four years

do you remember
when we first walked these hallowed
halls, you and i together
our words floating like music
in the yellow tiled echo

my syllables have found their
space on this internet paper
dissipating disappearing at the
push of a refresh button

i've sat in my room and i've spun out
my feelings
and now i can see them lying here
on my pages

out in the world
yet still in my fingers

i can read how i was in years past
and i am thankful

For the Q train at 7 am on Election Day

When you've left your Eggos on the counter
and your heart is feeling sore
Shut your eyes
When you can smell the chocolate melting
When you can taste the heavenly aroma that wraps
itself around you
Tell your stomach sweeter lies
Tell it that it should stop growling
Feed it sighs