Skip to main content

Hearts & Flowers


for the day of the dead
i went to old town
it was the first time
since that last time

a man stood behind a newspaper stand
with silky palm leaves
threading them into flowers and hearts
my heart spoke before my mind could remember
and stifle the desire to buy one
to give it to you
i could see myself handing you
this piece of beauty
i thought...
i knew you would have loved it






i wanted to buy one for you
but then reality and sadness with it welled up
because i couldn't...


   

...it's the little things that hurt the most <|3

Popular posts from this blog

H.A.N.

Women need the art, poetry, music, and creative safe spaces more than the men. #period
I turn on my car to find two lights on the dash. On the right, the check engine light and on the left, the empty gas tank light. As I roll over the bumps in my apartment complex, the gas light dims and disappears for a few seconds. It lets me know that there's still a bit sloshing around in there. I open my g-mail to find an e-mail from my ex. The air around me began to fizzle and my heart paused as I read. It lets me know that there's still a bit sloshing around in there. <|3

Like water my son...

Everything feels so fluid. I feel as if I'm in the middle of whitewater rapids, standing. As if I'm just standing there, muscles tight and twitching; standing against this great force of nature. The water swirls and crashes all about me. It's so hard to think. My thoughts feel like the rapids. Attempting to hold onto a single thought is like trying to hold the nature that surrounds me. But there I am, standing against. I don't know if I should move. I'm afraid to take a step. I'm afraid to even unclench a single finger. And I don't know if it's out fear that once I let go, once I let my muscles relax, once I take the first step that I will be swept away. Or if fear that once I try to move, that I'll continue to stand against the flow.