Poems

Dry.

Dry.
by: Clara Cecilia Cordero

She was looking everywhere. Days passed and she drove herself insane. She gave herself easily, to people she though they had it. She stopped caring and she started getting cold.

Dry.

She wasn't the flower she was meant to bloom into. She sat alone looking at an empty wall sitting on the edge of the bed. Moons came and went and she lost it all. The waves of the ocean didn't move for her, the wind wasn't present and she almost ran out of oxygen. She got up and looked in the mirror and she realize that all this time she had it. She hold tighter to the collar in her neck, closed her eyes and whisper "I love you grandma." And a tear ran down her cheek.

She thought she lost the only thing that held her alive. The memory of what once was warmth and love.