Photo from Pixabay / Licensed by Creative Commons

At the end of a movie

You wait for him to turn back

To look at her

To smile

To realize how foolish everything is

She is a sunset

Pushing the weight of the moon and the stars down


Hoping to hold onto this ending

For just a little while longer

She is a bruise

The purple kind on your legs

The type where you don’t even know

How they got there

But here they are

Purple suits you

Purple, like her aura

The color that carries secrets in small denim pockets

Or her father’s arms after blood tests

Or her abuelo’s face as the Parkinson’s screamed for us to let go

I’m still holding on.

Soft cotton sheets

Bright eyes, swallowing the world

Tired, heavy, silent by six

Sitting in the car with him and him

Listening to the outcries of wild youths

In love with complexity and how easy it is to fall from fences when you’re only looking down

I chipped my nail on scotch tape

I chipped my skin washing dishes

I chipped my tooth when I fell on the kitchen table

People think I break my own soul for fun

I don’t

Sometimes it’s so easy to be curious

To crave perfection

That if there is one crack

Then we must start over





My shoes are covered in paint

So I can remember where I’ve been

I often mix up memories with dreams

Forgive me if I feel like I know you

Maybe it really all was a dream

Whether you are real

Or if I am real

I will open you like the forget-me-nots in early spring

And keep you open with broken glass

I am my mother’s nose

My father’s pride

Her exhaustion

His anxiety

Wrapped in white

Topped with untouched Prozac



My lungs are mosaics of everyone I have met

Open your hands

I promise it won’t hurt

Turn around

Look me in the eye

Remind me who you are

Which piece of glass did I leave in you?

If it’s still jabbing you

You didn’t know me long enough