Alisa Vasquez Poems #1

I feel comfort in my shadow

For nothing is real,

Except it.

Simple Saturdays lounging

On the threads of my couch.

Written lines in that familiar shade of black.

The clouds are back again

And I must wait.

In the midst of these clouds,

I find fear.

In has many faces, and I pick mine up.

I see yours there and smile,

I see yours there and smile.

The energy builds and the day reborn.

Look to the sky to feel your place.

It matters.

Looking around,

How is it that I’m here?

Strangely wonderful,

Watching you sleep.

Choke.

Hearing your thoughts,

Fly.

Tasting your juice,

When.

Smelling that scent,

Death.

Irresistibly there,

Destruction.

Gives me all he knows to be true,

Knowledge,

Affection,

Love,

Money,

Mistrust,

Anger,

Guilt,

His way, price tags.

Important, breathe, brush my teeth.

Unknowing.

Titlelessness

It’s a type of syndrome we suffer from.

It’s not contagious.

It’s not curable through

Titlelessness

I say this as fact, because it is.

Titlelessness

It can’t be studied, no research can be done.

You cannot have varied forms.

It’s the same for everyone.

It can be this simple,

An awkward smile

Holding comfort.

We are not meant to be more than 2 souls in a flower pot.

I once asked myself a question of emotion.

I felt the wonder in my soul

And began to answer.

Living for ideals leaves little room for life.

In the blink of an eye I see a shadow.

In the blink of another, I see one more,

What happens next is like infectious bacteria.

I wonder what prompted you to go straight for the feet.

I have skates on mine.

The white ones with hot pink wheels.

I call it my mid-20’s crisis.

I’m on my own,

Somewhat educated (by society’s definition)

I’m alone, in an okay way.

Holding out for my Henry Sherman.

“I get it, he’s everything I’m not.”

All poems by Alisa Vasquez

Posted with permission.

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