Thursday, June 4, 2015

Andrea Camacho- Three Poems



Apples

I ate a big bowl of apples yesterday.
They looked shiny and red but tasted like rotting hay.
On the outside, they looked fine
But the insides were the rotten kind.
That’s how I feel 99% of the time.
I’m falling and there’s nothing to hold.
I’m an apple.
I’m screaming words of sadness but no one hears me.
I think the only one who can see me is me.
My reflection in the mirror taunts me
With the dreadful memory that haunts me
And inside I cry
But on the outside simply, I lie.
I am emotionally stressed and secretively depressed.
No one knows what my mind has in store
Because honestly?
I can’t take it anymore. 



Wounded

I grow my hair.
“It doesn’t seem to match your face! Too long! You don’t belong.” they say
I cut my hair.
“It makes you look weird! Too short! Move along, Squirt” they say.
They laugh
Not with me but at me
I feel like a free show
No admission fee
And I stare in the mirror trying to figure out this enigma
What is wrong with me?
My heart aches and my head pounds
I can’t stand my own ground
Why do I let their words pierce me like ice cold bullets?
I’m shot. I’m wounded. I’m dead.
Wait, no.
They’ve misfired instead.
The bullets just grazed me, yet little did it amaze me
That I actually had it in me to gather up the strength that only I could see
I am indestructible. I am sturdy. Like a rock.
It all came together when I learned not to give a fu—
About the little things that hurt.
When malicious words escape malicious mouths
Then I know that it’s a sign.
Don’t pay attention to the comments of anyone else’s mouth but mine.



Is it Weird?

Is it weird
That I want to lie next to you
And run my fingers through your hair
And play with the corners of your lips with my lips?
Is it weird
That I want to trace the outline of your face
And then kiss the smooth trail that my fingers had created?
Is it weird
That a chill speeds up and down my spine
Then hits a speed bump that happens to be my heart?
But isn’t it weird
That when you were looking for some loving
I was here and she was not
You chose to bury your love into another thief’s heart
So why did you steal my heart
When you were still in love with someone else’s?
So when she breaks you down and lets you crack
I’ll be here.
So tell me now,
Is it still weird?


No comments:

Post a Comment