The world and I have been communicating lately. This collection of poems shows how our conversation went.

The “Repeated Change” Sonnet:

The world has become a dark place darling,
With no flowers growing from volcanoes
No stability…..red ink sweeps railing
You hope. but no such thing with the veno.

The trees are no longer viridescent
Their eyes cannot open, the smoke too strong
Then, we the adult as adolescent
It’s about time we realize our wrong

The black weapon is pointing at their heads
Should we stay quiet, or scream with no air
No longer bright and young nice newlyweds
Scream, scream, we have been taken by the pair.

Breathe, Breathe, hold your hands together darling.
Prosper,          together,          without              their          snarling.

A Compilation of Me Trying to be Yours:

I’ve told you all
about my writing, my words, and how much they mean to me.
It’s been a wonderful thing really.

I think it’s time I look beyond myself.
Why do I write? What do my words do for you?
Well, a part of me hopes they comfort the part of your soul that you have left to 

rotten.

Another part of me hopes that I tell a 

true story.

A story of a repeated past.
            Do you understand,

the past has become a cycle and aren’t I just lucky to be here right now.
            Ah, back to me. Apologies,      it’s a habit.

The flowers bloom,
the leaves fall,
the grievances rise,
the people die.

Repetitive isn’t it?

Let me say it again.

The flowers bloom,
the leaves fall,
the grievances rise,
the people die.

I want this to be bigger than me.

I want all the words I’ve been talking about for all this time to be bigger than me.

Let it be bigger because I don’t know if I can take my presence being nothing in this world.

Take my pain, take my wrath, and take my joy.

Take it.

Turn it into something no one’s seen before.

I know I’m just talking of myself again, old habits die hard.
Let’s, just, act,
like we care.

Entonces:

Esto es para usted.
Un idioma donde no me viene las palabras.
Pienso, pienso y todo que sale               son los recuerdos de usted.
Mis palabras no salen con felicidad, ni salen con tristeza.
Vienen sin confianza y sin amor.
Yo no conozco el piso que yo piso, o el aire que respiro.
Sin embargo, si recuerdo el dolor.
Creo que sientes lo mismo.
Sigue, sigue, dolor que no es completamente mío.
Recuerdo cuando el dolor se hizo mio, y te lo regreso.
Es tuyo.

I’ll see you around:
My voice has become shaken. Hasn’t been used in quite a long time.
It is shaking when it speaks, trust me.
That will not stop it from seeing you again.
They are excited to speak to you.
With all it’s good and bad listening.
It will come back with the voice of reason.
                          my voice.

Welcome Back.

Process

The first poem in this collection I created during my English class. We were working on Sonnets and I fell in love with the slight meanings these poems could have. I wrote mine for class with such care. It spoke about my mindset on the world right now and how I feel hopeless. Then, I realized how I always have conversations with myself in poems, but never truly outwardly with the world. So, I wanted to dive into a narrator who isn’t as selfless as they try to come off. How their old habits of selfishness seem to creep up in various ways. I loved being able to create a narrator that was so untrustworthy. Adding on, I grew up in a Spanish-speaking household, but haven’t published any Spanish poems in the previous anthologies. I wanted to be able to read my poem out loud to my parents and knew that it was time. I quickly wrote it but had to edit quite a bit since I do not write in Spanish often. However, it came out exactly as I wanted it to. It has this theme of purity, gentle words, but strong rhetoric. It’s one of my favorites. The end of the collection came along with me wanting to share how the narrator is ready for their voice to resurface.