the Things that I regret
are like Matchboxes and crushed flower petals,
they are beautiful and powerful;
tiny sparks igniting barrels of gunpowder
phosphenes and stolen glances,
They are beautiful and singular,
Each as intricate as a woven mesh
That I wear in front my eyes,
They are beautiful and singular,
They are singular and bedazzled,
flaws sparkling in the light,
Like stars in the night sky,
They are singular and suffocating,
Like a drop of red in a white room,
With no windows or doors,
like a hallway with the lights out,
Having no start or end;
They are suffocating
And beautiful,
Like the windows down and a rush of cold air,
Filling up my lungs and tying knots in my hair-
they are singular,
and they are numerous,
Like the residents of the homeboy hotel.
more coming soon.
x
YOU ARE READING
heartbreak hotel.
Poesíawatch as i gather all this shrapnel, this worry and pain, and board it onto the backs of pickup trucks and pigeons, addressed to the landfill called my heart. - a collection of poems and prose about love, loss, healing and heartbreak.
