Love Speaks

We read it in their eyes, see it in their embrace, feel it in their tears that can't be brushed away fast enough- love is something we all understand that we will never understand.

Trying to answer the question: what is the common language of the world?

(to have loved)

there's beauty in the way

we love people and we lose people

and how we sometimes get them back again 

there's tenderness in the way

they come and they go

how they unravel memories from our souls when they leave

but I don't see tragedy

(to have loved)

she’s so pretty / it hurts

(she’s so pretty / it hurts)

she has a string between her lips
a hook in my heart
she tugs and it's the kind of pain that hurts so good

I wouldn’t mind if she pushed the hook in deeper
I wouldn’t mind if she stepped in closer
I don't mind that she holds my heart in her hands

(because she’s so pretty / it hurts)

I try to count the brush strokes I'd need

to paint the magic she leaves behind every careful, carefree step

to paint the wisdom in her words

to paint the unspeakable things her smile has endured

I’d paint a mural on the side of my house

and above the lips that leave magic on mine

I’d paint that

"she’s so pretty / it hurts"

gen·der

/ˈjendər/

noun

1. something decided by an internal compass you'll never be able to describe. to some people, it feels like the most important part of them and to others, just a piece of their identity they lost in the back of their closet as a kid and forgot about.

2. something decided by your parents and society. labeled by either pink or blue and supposedly evident by whether you cry or not.

3. something that does not control anyone nor something that anyone can much control. often differentiated by visual appearance and expression.

more than in between

i am more than in between

it doesn't matter if you think
there is only male and female
i am still neither
i am in between

i won't explain what heritage means
i am latina, i cherish my connection
i don't live in america
i live in between

there is more than gay and straight,
get over yourself already
i am in between

they've called me crazy
well, i'm not sane
i am in between

in between, i fall through the crack
i have to decide that
i am both
and stronger for that

hold my hand

hold my hand and
don't care that people stare
it's hard, i know
so, hold on tighter

are you afraid to be seen with me?
would it be different if i looked like someone else?

if i had different hair or changed my clothes?
don't be surprised that i wonder

no, i believe you
i like to forget sometimes

no need to get heckled
no need to be target practice for lost boys
no need to get attacked
or see where else that could lead
at this point, it's white noise

we'll stay right here,
but proper distance apart
know that i want to hold your hand in mine
but, now i am the one who is afraid

Stars Were Made Here

It was summertime
and we were young.
Is that too cliche?

Us crossing paths was really a mistake.
What if we never did?
What if
the universe kept us apart,
for a little bit longer?

We weren’t ready to see the stars
that we made.
What if
it could have all been different?

Crisscross on flannels
(we couldn’t afford anything better)
I lay out our options like a feast -
ready for you to choose me.

We couldn’t make it work
(but, I gave you my all)

We almost didn’t meet -
that day where everything was going wrong,
except seeing you -

but, we did. And we created stars
and stitched them into the clothing
on our backs and wore them
with pride.

What if
the universe had held on
to our distance?
(I swear, not much longer)
Instead of getting thrown into that
hurricane of- gosh, what if,
I hadn't been there,
that day I first saw you?

It all could have been different.
Or not.

I would never go back.
You gave me scars made out of thrift clothes
and stole kisses and vanilla cupcakes from
my pantry. Don't you see?

Girl, you taught me to dream.