Category Archives: Uncategorized

iv.

in my head resides a realm, an escape, right now it’s midnight here, 5:00am in the real world. i plod along the sidewalk on these streets, the stars only shine underneath.i’m walking away [from you] but we’re burned into each other’s DNA.what awaits me is an abyss, as i melt slowly into your darkness,i’m not afraid, i like the hurt and the pain, it’s familiar and it’s safe. i’ve built a home here, in this sadness, in a whitewashed building overlooking all of the madness, a door to a room on the edge called ‘only love can hurt like this’.

you reach into me, your presence asphyxiates my head, you wear my heart around your neck, like an entitled trophy,
just let me go, please?
my blood is boiling down to poison, deadly to the touch, every vein in my body wraps itself around what is left of cavernulous bones [i’m holding on to nothing], cells suffocate themselves, i can’t find my breath.

i’m drowning in your love, i’m screaming but no one can hear, there’s nothing more left to burn. you plaster me with your temporary lies, if it’s not killing me, i am only half alive. my body paints a mural in itself, a mural of your love,is this it?
is this the anatomy of love?
[is this really love?]

[it’s dark, it’s raining red]

(part four of four)

~V

iii.

there had been talks about a girl who walked around with a static heart, among surgeons who wanted to tear it apart, their small town could use this a piece like this. january first, they carved it out of my chest, cracked it wide open only to find your name underneath it all, your name in the broken pieces, your name in the pitch-black labyrinth. your love had birthed art, you see? a once in a lifetime masterpiece, a sculpture titled ‘only love can hurt like this’. today, it was displayed in a metal glass box, protecting it only after it had scarred, in the museum built for the lovers and the broken ones to watch. oh how they admire pieces of me, for loving you till it wore me down to nothing, was it love?

[what is love?]

[my heart only ever beats out of my chest]

(part three of four)

~V

ii.

on a rainy morning at 4:00 am, the monster your love created made its way to church, the angels were already hiding in the back, i was hoping to find god somewhere, hoping to find answers to questions in my head. instead, i’m greeted with a glass coffin, with your name on it. i see, you’d reluctantly left with the heart i ripped out of my own chest, the sky has been crying out loud in red while i’ve been living in dread of myself and on the other side of this lair, you rest easy, cradling my soul in your arms like a baby. i’m begging, calling out your name at the altar where you sleep, reaching for you but this is not easy, will you please just hear me? will you please, just please, come back? just this one last time, we only have a minute left. ‘only love can hurt like this’ you said [this love will be your death]. why are you the only voice in my head? am i in love?

[i’ve lost myself]

(part two of four)

~V

(only love can kill)

i.

they say it’s okay to hurt from time to time but it feels like this is consuming me alive. like I’ve been walking around with a hollow space in my bones, where my heart is supposed to be, crying my eyes out at 3:30, tight hands gripping my mouth silent, no one hears a sound. it feels like i’m dying a slow death, my heart only beats out of my chest, every part of me feels numb and yet every part of me feels alive,is this love?[maybe]. i feel nothing and everything, tired and at a fleeting war with myself, an inexplicable emptiness. only love can hurt like this, they said. so how do I stop this?
tell me,please,how do I stop this?

[when will it stop?/will it ever stop?/does it ever stop?]

(part one of four)

~V

hopeless romantics
with flowers growing out
of our lungs,
hopeless romantics
drinking poison
that burns our tounges.

oh us,
us stupid stupid poets,
and our stupid stupid words,
and all these pages,
and how we turn our worst days
into loving hurt.

giving into fires
that burn our hearts to ash,
striving to build up walls
so we don’t get attached,
but we live in our heads a little too much
to face reality,
doubting our mortality,
turning to insanity
so when reality tingles
we turn it into poetry, hence immortality

when you break a poet’s heart
you turn into something unforgettable,
but you’ll never know
if it’s you,or would you?
because even after all the pain,
somehow the light always shines through,
and we survive
to morph you into something graceful.

you could rip out our brains
and take em with you,
take out our sanity
and go for a run,
stomp all over our hearts
and walk away,

But a poets heartache
will always turn you into
something exquisite,
something very,
you.

~V

-to the one’s who inspire the writing without even knowing it

Almost at the years end
and it turns out that
I still only tell
the moon all my secrets.

how did i end up in the same place
as the last December twenty eight?
with the same heartache
and the same pain?
now I’m doing it all over again,
questioning,
if I’ll ever catch a break.

Now even the shadows are tired,
of listening to the same heartbreak,
the flowers in my backyard, they shy away,
my friends, tear away.

I’m tired of me too,
for for thinking about you,
all the damn time.
i feel sick,
in a way that consumes me,
like heroin to the brain.

how are you still so perfect
even after you broke my heart, over and over again?
will i fall in love again?
or end up in the same lair?

you have me tied by the neck,
with my heart on your sleeve,
Why won’t you just cut me free?
just let me be?
please?

my light guided you
to see the bright side,
when you needed to, especially then,
So why,
are you still swallowing me in your darkness like a tropical cyclone?
eroding my heart like it’s a joke?
are you that big of a hoax?
was i just use and throw?

you told me,
I saved you,
from yourself,
now,
how will I save myself from you?

~V

-to the ghost of the past

song:The Cut that Always Bleeds- Conan Gray

Five years ago,
grandma gave me her necklace and knit a warm beige sweater for me,
her way of telling me she loved me,
kept it under the christmas tree
where she also placed her lost dreams.

  Christmas morning, 7:47 am:

  I looked outside my bedroom window from the first floor,
our driveway covered knee deep in snow,
ran downstairs to the colourfully decorated tree,gifts underneath,
I was fourteen.
I opened up the cardboard box
the one with the little pink note that read:
Merry Christmas, little miracle,
love,
your abuela.

It revealed a breathtaking necklace,
a small round piece of purple amethyst at the centre,
a rather rusty gold chain,
it’s been in the family for years, you say
from the kitchen where
you were making me some of your special tea,
sweet with honey,
spiced with ginger and cinnamon,
like your love.

your unsteady stance called for me,
so i ran into the kitchen and lead you to the rosewood table,
you’d already made a fire in the red brick fireplace in our dining room,
so i poured us some tea
and you asked me to sit down
and told me a story.

you talked about a simpler time,
back in the 50’s,
about the time you fell in love,
with someone who looked like a dream.
but it couldnt be,
so the dream gave you this necklace,
for an impermissible kiss.

my heart rests forever in the forbidden crystal, your voice cracks,
as you tell me.

“once in a lifetime love gives you a fairytale”
*you sigh deeply*
“yes,it could end in heartbreak,but you had the privilege to love a soul and maybe that’s your fairytale”

I put it around my neck,
a perfect fit,
like it was meant to be embedded.

Five years later:

Christmas morning, 7:47 am:

I find you in the kitchen,
of course,
you’re making the special tea,
the one that tastes like your love,
except this time,
you don’t remember me.

I clutch the centerpiece of the necklace that holds your heart,
your hands are shaky, body, cold,
memories that don’t exist.

I help you to the cracked rosewood table and pour some tea,
you say thank you dear,
I wish I had someone like you to help me.

oh but abuela,
how do you not remember me?

So, I start telling you stories,
about the times that you held me,
hoping you recall any.

the necklace,
of course,
the necklace, the story.

7:59am:

the look in your eyes,
you remember now,
all of it,
and your eyes glow with this childlike wonder
as you tackle me in a warm embrace,
diamonds stream down your cheeks,
my lips curve into a smile,
finally,
a moment of lucidity.

8:07 am:

“I’m sorry I don’t think I know you”

“you asked me here to drink tea”

we sit in the chaos of this silence,
a bright fire burns in the living room fireplace as we look out the window, snowflakes settling on crisp leaves.
your now frail body shivers,
so i wrap the warm beige sweater that you knit me, around your shoulders,
and you smile at me,
“thank you, little miracle”
my heart hung heavy.

9:03 am:

I wear the amethyst around my neck,
as i do, everyday,
this way,
a piece of your heart always stays with me.
and maybe,
just maybe,
I’ll have my very own,
fairytale dream.

~V

– to abuela

song: Better Days- Dianne Reeves

I’ve been holed up in my room for almost a week now,
it smells of cheap perfume and regret.
I lay on the cold floor,
staring straight up at the ceiling,
I can’t seem to find the light,
I feel nothing.

your teal blue shirt still lives in my closet,
the one filled with emptiness,
it smells like you,
like cigarettes and ashtrays.

my friends keep telling me
that you’re doing okay,
because you never cared to begin with,
but you did,
I know you did.

it was the tenth of the month,
we lay under the velvety somber October sky,
I could see it in your doting eyes,
and when our hands intertwined,
it felt as if
the stars had set fire to my body.
no, maybe it was just me.

and what about that time,
when you held me in your embrace
as I cried against your chest,
for I was tired of grieving the loss of my heart,
and you held my head up
as I gasped for air,
our foreheads touched
and you said “I’m right here”.
no but,maybe they were right,
maybe,
it was,
just me.

it’s been hard lately,
the memory of you still haunts the corners of the vacant streets to my heart,
so I read the letters you wrote me,
you described harmony,
and in the last one,
you told me that one day,
everything will be okay
but will it,
be okay?
will it really?

why is it,
that even now when I’ve convinced myself u never really cared,
I still,
find it especially hard to let you go?

~V

~to the one I keep holding onto

song: I love you – Billie Eillish

for as long as I can remember
i have been frightened by the idea,
of who i would be,
if i let myself be,
all that i could be.
would i lose myself in the glory?
would i find myself in it?

Lately,
i’ve been a little rebellious,
a bit of a risk-taker, if you must,
a little more caring,
a little more fun,
a little more of everything,
a little more, of me.

I am not, who I used to be.

‘what is it that i am so afraid of?’
i ask the reflection staring back at me through the ghost of an empty mirror,
at 4 am,
on a rather cold winter morning,
and that’s where,
i saw her.
the silhouette of a figure who would never enounce,
the perfect poster child.

she reaches out to me,
hands slowly breaking through
the shimmer that separates us,
running her pale, bony fingers through my hair,
down to the side of my right cheek,
hands now wrapped around my neck,
she pulls me in, up close.

I can see the weight she carries, around two brown, defunct eyes,
feel the veins underneath thin cold skin,
the crevices on her face hold stories,
a roadmap that marks the pain,
the only voice I could hear,
was that of a slow beating heavy heart.

she reaches into me,
and a cold burning sensation dawdles
through every inch of my body,
as her shattered dreams,
poured like screams.
i could taste it anew, the past,

it had left nothing but,
the bitterness in my heart.

~V

~to the monster in the mirror that i can’t seem to let go of.

song: Self- Khalid

‘how can you still love him?’

we shared the same scars.

‘but he hurt you’

he made me laugh.

~V

~to the love in whom i saw the darkest parts of myself.

song: By your side – The 1975