I’m not I couldn’t be.

By. Jesse Diaz

I’m not hot

I’m not sexy

I’m not sexually attracted to

Can I still be cute?

Can I still be funny?

If I cut do I look better,

Will I look hotter?

No-

Yes-

No-

Yes-

I cut on me for you?

Cut’s?

By. Jesus L. Diaz

Cutting oneself is great

But

Can I cut deeper?

Skin

dried

blood?

No communication?

No problem,

Get Better.

Nothing can make you anxious

You just get sad.

Don.t

by. Jesus L. Diaz

Don’t cry

Just Change.

Just breathe

Don’t blink.

Get better,

love harder?

Can I?

Take better health

get better steps.

You can be okay

he can to

believe if you can

leave if you need to

Work, keep working

do the project, do the dues

just try to be happy

Work towards you.

Figure 8

By Jesus L Diaz

Contemplated thorough examination;

Bolstering.

Passing tones,

Passing blankets

Passing clothes.

I’m the Beast.

How do I feast, with her?

It is always 500 days of fall,

An eternal sunshine graved upon.

This streak is melting,

What if it’s love

Is gone forever?

Not yet, it could be,

We might be alright

We could be okay.

Maybe we might just Die.

It can be all okay,

We might be alright,

Let’s Feast.

Feast this good dinner.

Her. By: Jesus “Jesse” Diaz

She had never been there for me

She had me in her grasps under her thumb

She had me, mirrored me towards her own emotions

I wish I had raised more heart and emotion

I wish I could have let everything out

I wish I could have screamed at the top of my lungs

I never had the room to mentally heal

I never had the ability to cry physically

I never had a point to raise my voice

I wanted it to be okay

I wanted myself to stay happy

I wanted my friend to not have tried anymore

Continue reading “Her. By: Jesus “Jesse” Diaz” →

Where the Poppies Grow by Jolie So

Years have been covered in ash and torment 

Children, wives, fathers have not only lost themselves but their loved ones as well

I have lost my Maria, my Opa, and slowly my will to live

I still trace the number they imprinted on my skin

I still see the nightmares and horror, the death and the smell all too real in the starless sky

No matter what I do, what I eat I am still reminded of him

The trenches are continuously covered in poppies and blood

Hope is silver lined and I cannot cross it, it feels all too surreal
It feels as I will never find my hope

Even when I returned home nothing felt the same without him in my arms

The plum trees grew and prospered, the hens covered the grass with a sea of orange

Even though life was around me, I wanted to die

But the day when I had to save Vater, I have found my will to live

The silver line fading, no more words that taunt a good life, it is truly here

I have now found my Issac where the plum trees and poppies grow

And I have learned hope can still be found in war, in the arms I always love

My lover was a day

As time changes we all grow different 

As time changes we all change with it

As time changed my mind still said redundant things

My mind still said were meant to be

My mind said that it wasn´t savory as it could be

My mind changed to say you could be my love again

Staring down the light you can find me in the tunnel

Straight down the road, you can find me with a sign

Sitting very still with my mind on my grind

Continue reading “My lover was a day” →

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