Shatter -  Two Happy Left Feet
I begin to dance
with fragments of glass
staring back and forth
so I cannot count myself.

I try to catalogue
all the little pieces
of me that have 
fallen along the way.
Fractions of a 
smaller self that
I cannot reconcile
with the women
who surround me.

Like a word repeated
over and over and over
and over and over
I become syllables
without sentiment
without context.

I attempt to gather my 
soul into these skins
and remember the 
memories my freckles have
but they have scattered
to the four corners of
a foreign moon.

And I find it easier
to identify with the
caterpillar in his chrysalis
than the girl who
wore my eyes yesterday.

But she nestles,
that familiar stranger,
making a womb
of my left ventricle
and whispers to me
all the stories my mind
cannot remember.

She sits there,
my wild-haired fever-
dream child
and taps out the re
of a life she lived
in my other skin.

Leave a Reply.



    Ever since I was little I have enjoyed playing with words.  I recently went through some of my old journals (which I have been keeping since my freshman year of high school) and dug up some of my favorites.  Some of them I revised a little, and some I left as is.  Not all of the sentiments still ring true, but it is an interesting experience for me to reread and share them.  It's a little like opening an old letter from someone you haven't talked to in ages.  I am still writing plenty and I'm sure that there will be more poems and essays about my current experiences here soon.  Buen provecho!


    November 2010
    August 2010
    February 2010
    December 2009
    October 2009
    August 2009
    February 2006



    RSS Feed