Skin Wound, Soul DeepBeauty is only skin deep, they say.So why does disfigurement poison the soul?
A Hero's NightmareThe souls that I could not save
The Beautiful DreamerYou will never know how I envy you, MorpheusFor you are the only being that can understand what this beautiful sleeper thinks ofAs she lays on that white sea, eyes shut to the world. What I wouldn't give to be at peace with her in her realm of dreamsTo see her smile oft hidden in her waking lifeUnder her armour as impenetrable as it is invisible.Answer me, O beautiful dreamerIs the world so cruel that you cannot confide in meThe secrets of your timorous heart? Perhaps one day, I will be worthy of your considerationAnd you will know me for realUntil then, your somnolent smile will suffice.
Fast Forward to a Few Years Later Although they never met, my two best friends had much in common. Both of them shared my enthusiasm for martial arts. Both of them had silly sides that matched my own. Whenever I talked to either friend, we felt equally at ease alternating between trading jokes and discussing serious topics within our limited experience. Most importantly, I had to wait nine years after they moved before I could be reunited with them. At the age of nine, I had moved from Alexandria and started fourth grade at an international school in Cairo. I had enrolled in an after-school Tae Kwon Do class and was told by the instructor to wait in the corner of the room for class to begin. Sitting cross-legged on the ledge of a large window was a tall brown-haired boy in glasses looking intently ahead. I walked over to the boy and asked if I could take a seat. With a nod of approval, I sat next to him and we began to converse. He introduced himself as Mikael Hedegaard from Denma
Turning Back to the StartWho says heroes needed to have powers?In all our shared fantasies,The heroes we created were only as powerful as the size of their hearts and the purity of their love.Often written of, spoken of but hardly understood.It's that many faced love that empowers us the most.Who says a life together had to be easy?My best friend...my true love.Is it too much to ask for both?Long before these words were written,A wise man said that friendship was a single soul in two bodies.Doesn't that sound familiar?We've come a long way together and we've still got time.The monument we've built only lasted because of so much renewal.But I will gladly take one more laugh and one more tear.One more blissful dream and one more nightmare.My greatest wish is not for our story to end in a straight line.But to turn back to the beginning again and again.With you.
Rue this DayWhat doesn't kill you makes you rue the day you were born
The Hawk and The DoveWho am I? I am the HawkI am the warrior, whose martial spirit reigns supremeI fight back to end a fight, and I stand aloneI am the combatant, the toughWho are you?Who am I? I am the DoveThe peacemaker, who cannot exist without violenceYet I need not resort to violence to winI am the soother, the tamedWho are we?We are eternal.
DefianceIt starts with loss,The family torn apart, the friends lost and the peace shatteredBy the darkest hearts, the most powerful weapons and the harshest diseasesThen comes grief with its tear-stained face and its anguished cries,Drowned out by the speed of lifeIt doesn't make sense.What did we do wrong?Why is Heaven against us?Along came misery with its stone cold silenceBereaved hearts long encased in an iron shell, if only to fend offThe cold gun in their hands and the ledge of the roof in front of themIf there is a Heaven waiting for us to see our loved ones,Let our death be hastened.But the body hesitates and the mind awakens from its slumberRoused by a single wordNoHeaven is going nowhere, it can wait a while longerJustice has waited too long.First comes loss, then grief, and then despair…until all that's left is defiance.
Million Dollar QuestionWhere is your home? God knows.
obsessionyour shadow and I have begunto argue about sharing space
you can't have the world.i never meant to make youhate me; i only wantedyou not tolove me.
.is it worse tohear a truth,or give oneto tell a lie,or live one
For ScienceBrought toaster to bathtub.Shocking results.
To My Biology TextbookOn page 159 of my biology textbook, it reads,“...cancer is the uncontrolled growth of cells”as though that could explain everything,and I thought it did for a time.But my textbook never warned methat his skin would paleto a point where I could seethe blue freight trainscarrying eighteen pillsthroughout his frail body.My textbook never warned methat his watery irises would freeze over,that he would hurl insults like knives,and that he would clench his jawas tightly as his fist clenched his wine glassbecause the only person to blame is himself,and he can’t swallow that as easilyas he can the olives in his martinis.And my textbook never warned methat it would be this difficult to breathebecause of my acute awarenessthat his breaths are limited,and that there would be nothing I could dobut soldier on searching for that silver liningclinging to these foreboding thunderheads.
The Art of Poetry KillingWhen I find an old poemPackaged beneath an allegoryOr taped beside a piece of prose,Warm and balmy and still swollenRipe with the undisturbedWordsWithin their plastic wrapper,I untangle its cellophane bindingsTo find it's too oldAnd too stale for the proper use of a poemSo I pluck out itsStringsLike some guts of a creatureAnd sew themOnto other dust poemsLike the mismatched socksOf a childJust like murder is an art,I still walk away with ink on my hands.
GirlsGirls This poem is for all the wonderful women, ladies, girlsAnd I think women actually may rule the world,But humans of the female persuasion are more than pearlsThey’re diamonds; critical to man and his kind, but if men do rule the Earth,It’s probably a woman’s universeAnd don’t let anyone tell you otherwiseThe world is yours and you can do anything your heart desiresAnd to the stereotypes and prejudice, you ladies should throw to fireYou’re more than just a pretty face, an object of desire, or housewifeYou’re not meant to just play with barbies or like pink, being into sports is more than fineYou’re far more than the exterior; you are the insideYou’re the soul and mind, the most important part of a human beingYou’re more than a damsel in distress, you can be Katniss EverdeenYou can be the focus of the music that everyone singsYou can be the face of an entire nation, if you wanna beIf you apply
Just About a Year AgoJust about a year ago,You answered with "I guess,"When I asked you if I could be the girl by your side,The one you smiled down on, the one your friends all knewWhom you introduced to Mom and Dad as your girlfriend.Just about a year ago,Was when I first held your hand.I should have known then where it was going to lead:To phone calls and text messages and all those wonderful hugsFrom the first time, to right before we said goodbye the last.Just about a year ago,We drove around together.You had no license, so I did it,But you always felt bad,Such a gentleman.Just about a year ago,I found out some of what makes you laugh,A little of what makes you mad(But remember, your sister looks up to you)And a whole lot that makes you smile.Just about a year ago,I opened my heart to your possibilities,And got a wonderful reward.I found my best friend, my partner in crime,The most faithful man in my life.Just about a year ago,I gave love one more try,And what I got, was the
steps.humans were made to run barefoot.we were made to climb mountains, fighting gravityand to fly across stony deserts and dangerous forests.we were not made for these,these bastardizations of heels and soles and skin.humans were made to run barefoot,becausewe were always meant to leave traces of ourselveson everything we touched, every inchof the world that we would walk.we were always meant to take with usthe scars left by the walls we would climb,the bruises left by the falls we would take,the hard skin and the instant familiarity left by the paths we would forge alone.so worry not.you were never meant to feel the skin of this earththrough designer heels and combat boots.you were only ever meant to feel the weight of yourself,a breathing, bleeding, humancharged with electric emotions and spinningout of control upon the ground,meant to break yourself on the roads you pavedand the dreams you wrought in sto
Endless TalesII am the haiku of my smiles,The limerick of my frowns,The sonnet of my love stories,And the couplet of my thoughts.III am a ticking time bomb;And poems are the fragments of my blood,Mixed with the immortality of my soul,Carved into every echoes in the universe.IIII am never a story,Never a lesson to be learnt,Never a tale for you to boast;I am the scorching flames burning in the cold winter,I am a raging tsunami,And I could engulf the hell out of you.IVI am the everlasting scorching supernova,I am a whole book of undecided thoughts,I am your troubled curiosity,And every improbability in this universe.I am the paradox of my own time line,The undefined term in your mere dictionary, And the infinite definitions of my own thoughts.(G.L)-Endless Tales
Senseless.I didn't fall in love with you; I tripped over your facade.You weren't my other half; I was whole all along.Love isn't blind; it's senseless.© Rocio Belinda Mendez 2013
ForevermoreForevermore I dream of dying in infinitum.
ConversationAnd I've been telling you, you know, how heavy the sun feels and how it makes my muscles jump like a bird's wings as it flutters gently down on a windowsill. I still have those glass bottles on my mantle where the morning light hits themstill there, full of colored water and seashells. And maybe I'll tell you how they light up the ceiling in blue and green and pale yellow just like they always have, like nothing ever changed.I smell you on the sea air, sometimes, when it rushes in past the thin white curtains you helped me hang. They still bounce with every gust like exuberant dogs. And I've been telling you how the salt has most assuredly worked its way into my marrow now, and maybe if someone were to put me in a pie they'd find it too brackish for their taste. And then I wonder just how much you taste like the sea.The ocean beats my heart for me nowadays. Even inside, even at night, I can feel each breaker rumbling through my sternum and radiating along my ribs. And I've been
NoNo you can’t do that!No you can’t have that!No we can’t afford that!No that’s not healthy for you!No you can’t stay up that late!No you need to loose at least five more pounds!No that college won’t accept your lazy self!No that’s not perfect!No a ‘98’ can’t be your best!No you can’t make a living from writing!No you can’t do what you dream!No, no, no, no, NO!I’m so tired of ‘No’!Yes you can just sit there like a good girl.Yes you can eat all these protein shakes and vitamins.Yes you can be the perfect person I want.Yes I’ll go take a bunch of advanced classes I’ll never pass.Yes I’ll go become an engineer like everyone else.Yes I’ll give up on my dreams cause they’re stupid.Is that what it w
Spoiler AlertWhen we meet, I’ll be nineteen and you’ll be twenty. You’ll try to get to know me, and I won’t say much, but you’re persistent. And eventually, we’ll become friends.You’ll be in the dorm lounge one day, playing video games with your roommates, and they’ll all laugh at you because I’ll beat you. But you just smile along, because you know I’d beat all of them too. On a Friday, you’ll ask me out for the first time. I won’t know what to say, so I’ll just accept, not thinking much of it. Then later that night after we’ve eaten ice cream and are sitting on a park bench, I’ll pretend I don’t want to kiss you. Even though I really do.On the week of final exams we’ll be studying desperately in the library. I’ll be on the verge of tears—why do I even need physics anyway? I’ll groan and slam my head against the desk, and that’s when you’ll lean in close and
Cliches I Have Datedi.Anna collected stardustlike pennies, exceptpennies are worth something.ii.Claire had inkrunning through her veins; dead,from an unsterilized needle.iii.Robin had birdbonesstrung together on windchimes.iv.Sarah’s eyes were alwaysto the sky, and neveron me.v.Lizbeth took my breath awaywith every punch to the stomach.vi.Rosalie had too many thingsin her ribcage; emotional adrenalinetriggered her arrhythmia.vii.Emily left mefor a boy with starrier freckles.viii.I am one cat awayfrom a stereotype, or one girlcloser to a happy ending.
CurrentsCurrents Some men yearn to claspThe edges of stars by their fingertipsTo at least hold onto the debris,That creates golden iotasIn midnight oceans;And whispers of olden tales,Singing of a microscopic sphere,That twinkles within the vastness of emptiness. But I yearn to hold wind in a jar,Capture the oxygenAnd never let go of its essence. Carry it with me.Take it to a place only she and I know of,And cradle the edge of her hand,Into the wrinkles and crevicesOf my solemn grip. I’m not big, nor very strong,And I don’t have the powerThat could protect you,From all of the injusticesThat could befall you— But what I do have,Are my hands to hold yours,To feel the warmth of my palm,Meld into your grasp. A body to shield you from theDebris of falling dust,Cascading words,And descending storm. And words,That can cushion gusts,And quell hurr
Trappedthe words are there on the tips of my fingerswaiting patiently to tell their storya protective barrier encases this keyboard- prohibiting any exchange of thoughts from this tortured mind to this pure blank spacethe words try to slip through instead they bounce back and become wedged firmer into the swirling vortexthey bounce between the walls fighting their way out instead all that happens is tormented sleeps as the room fills with every individual letter that has tried to pass staring me down, reminding me They see it in my eyes two small beads withdrawn into their casingan impassive stare looks out"What's wrong" they ask -"I'm Fine, just tried"Something is wrong they knowbut it's too late Try and write it out you pleadnothingness is the responseyou want to scream out for someone anyonebut nothing comes outinstead you push people awayand shut the door tighttrapping the current perception tightly in
Sticks and StonesThey say words can never hurt you.Silence does a better job.