Mustard Seed

le dije a mi mamá que quería morir
y dijo
tu corazón es como un grano de mostaza
she said pain was here it’s watered it’s mustard
the pain in my soul had roots that broke bones
it chews on a generation
deja rastro de muerte en la sed de serpientes
pero le dije a mi mamá que quería morir
y dijo
tu corazón es como un grano de mostaza
crecí a conocer que a b o r t a r fia su arriendo
y que de mostaza muere el corazón sediento

What I bring to the table


the table holds knives that butcher my skin taking a lap
the breaths of gasp taking effect weathering goodbyes


“she’s awake, she’s awake
up the dose, up the dose!”

intubated by the season smells of rosemary
bees pollinating sucking dry tears of stalking
gawking recipes leaving residues of bloody posture
nailing promise into gaze i saw the light by mistake


“she’s awake, she’s awake
up the dose, up the dose!”


committed to the smell of heineken grew into my curves
cries at matinees restless of absence grains of regret
demanding pan de vida pa quien pa quien
the table weighs concrete blocks resting impaled hands
spheres touching touching m e n

“she’s awake, she’s awake
up the dose, up the dose!”


recovering addict wakes up in a bed imprisoned I felt
sutured promises melting thoughts holding flesh
it’s the gaze be the gaze it sends a flashy text
your absence cannot be felt
your act cannot be played
your amnesia has finally settled into my regret

“she’s awake, she’s awake
up the dose, up the dose!”

arcoiris

I thought words only painted images or things we want to see but can’t,

i’ve found words also paint nondescriptive anthems.

splashes of paint consumed by deepest fears // depressive episodes glassed with bloody // cuts //

their

skin

fresh

in mind and soul,

wanting to absolve intrusions

numbing empty hope // running engines of easels,

they’re all mine.

mania ain’t so bad, when it paints like this.

The crash comes with what silence can’t retain.

Would you believe me if I showed you? Would I? DO I // have to? Did I, want to?

I lost more than trust in me, the way I lost myself in you.

spring forgives, but no matter the leaves sprouting in skeletons all over the city,

on the back stains pulled empty // bloody // stern

they emblematize the anthem I cling to past the 90s show that introduces romantically

people always do this, people always leave.

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