i bet, you kiss like morning rain.
and are as coarse as the worn
elastic in my underwear.

too bad. tomorrow's a tuesday.
nothing comes on and i'm left
with only thoughts of your touch.

i dined with death.

the epiphanies are as hail now, unsympathetic and drawing me closer and colder toward death. i will freeze, but i am certain i’d rather die in snow.

-nayeli garza alphacentauuri.tumblr.com
(pure genius)

sonnet 11

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.


Pablo Neruda

2011...

seems to be going great for everyone else..

it's been a bust for me since midnight 1/1/11

although i have met the most amazing people.
i'm still the weirdo, but people actually listen to the music i like
and read books i would love to borrow lol
and.and.are coool.

i thought it only existed in dreams of boho chics

“mi amor mi amor if u ain’t sure u gorgeous u need 2 c a mirror more. nd u see i’m sure, if u see me more. i can have tht thing like a sea r shore"

-wale

excited.

this week is going to be dope. i hope.
(that rhymed, unintentionally)
→ wednesday last day of eye drops.
→ friday i get to start wearing my contacts again. payday. present
→ saturday the J. bday present shopping.
→ sunday the J/ #sundaykickbacks at #luisplace
→ monday MLK bbq/ #daplex
→ tuesday first day of school
→ wednesday the BEV's bday (midget strippers on deck) bwahaha.

my week. yessssss.

i'd bathe in eel sauce.

i'm totally cheating
making my blogger post, my tumblr post.

maybe i just don't have that many words. thoughts. ideas.
for two blogs...
so. should i get rid of one? no. lol.

it's who i am. sad face, but smug.

when you're me..

buying a shirt in a 'm'
officially makes it a dress.
marsha brady phase lives
thanks bestie.

girls with long legs have it MADE.
girls, like me, with short runners legs can't keep standing on the sidelines.

but my shirt-dresses make us (short girls) look like cupcakes. and i'm ok with that.

this is living...?

i have that ring

him name teddy

these lips
seem so different
out of
context

blogger has to be my neglected partner.

sorry love.

you know i'll always come back.
kiss kiss.

from okra to greens:a different kind of love story

there is a blu thing
a blue thing in the nite
which covers me
makes music
like leaves that havent shown/
themselves       &
when i dont know where i am
when i dont know when i'll see you
what time it is
i lay
in the middle of the night
covered up with this      blue-ness
this memory of you

some poets' eyes see hazel

mine see/ blue

she likes it ra

there wasn't a star
in the sky, just poets
in a room.

cold chattering
from the mouths
of the december team.
drinking coffee, lapping
up wine.

in the room.