I fell from grace
When i burnt it
all to the ground.
You told me to never
Contact you again;
Ripping me from your life
like I was you biggest sin.

But the thing
with unspoken fears,
They’re fueled by betrayal,
And burn for years.

Should I have just called you Felipe.
Because who the **** was Diego?
He was just a guy
who’s hand I never held,
But I asked to take me
every other day of the week.

He’d text me by quarter to noon,
everyday.
He said I never text him back too soon,
He always wanted to hear
what I had to say.

Was is friendly like or lust?
I swear it was all three,
every time he looked at me.
In those two black marbles I trust,
The only pair of eyes,
I still dream to see.

someone once told me
before you **** yourself,
**** your life.

so I slit that ******* throat
and watched it die.

It Was All A Dream

My relationship with my body and ***
has been strange since I was a little kid,
when my father stepped into the shower with me
while no one else was home.

I blacked out most of what came next,
but for years, I had nightmares:
him drowning me
in the deep end of our neighborhood pool.

My mother said it was only a dream.

These are some of the few memories
my father left me
that, and arriving pisspoor drunk
at dawn in a yellow taxi cab.

To wake to his silhouette
bursting through my bedroom door,
my mother clawing at him,
her screams slicing through the dark,
raising the hairs across my body,
begging him
the father of her child
to leave me alone.
I’d close my eyes and wish to sleep forever.

My mother said that they were dreams too.

I was never able
To call you mine.
But for six months
Everyday,
At a quarter to noon,
I got a voice text
From you.

Hey bronze boy,
come take a seat.
Have a cup of ayahuasca
I’m all out of tea.

I can’t stop,
I’ll never let it be
until I have you crawling
Back on your knees.

Begging for forgiveness,
begging me please
Let’s talk
Let’s take it easy

Too late.
It’s gonna be a wild ride.
Your momma never taught you
there’s danger in too much pride?

You worked hard,
got the degrees
doesn’t make you more of a man
when it’s women you can’t please.

You know reading, writing, arithmetic
but you never learned the skills to be a man.
Just a little *****
playing dress-up,
telling women to get on their hands.

You like control.
You like power.
You’re a high society type of man.

I’ll teach you life lessons
I learned on the streets:
anyone can fall on their ***,
And everyone can be beat.

You’re a scholar,
you’re a baller,
you’re a tiny little man.
Will you ever get the courage
to pop your head out of the sand?

Call it for what it was.
Put a name on my hurt.
Honor my last breath,
before you cover me in dirt.

I like to think
maybe it wasn’t meant
to be goodbye just then.
Maybe we were meant
to have our lives,
to one day meet again.

Maybe on a hot summer’s day,
Under the Utah sun,
We’ll both have salt and pepper hair,
And lock eyes on the horizon.

Our hearts would stop,
and so would our paths.
Fate giving us
A second shot
to reconcile
our past.