I love writing
Castle Hill Ave is a bitch on Sunday mornings. People who smile at passersby are usually in church by then and from 9am to about 3 in the afternoon those left in the streets just, stare.
By Carla Santa5 years ago in Poets
Look at things from my perspective. Cover up giggles with scowls because life has taught you to, because before this, laughter has always meant weakness.
We are born for this. At 9 months the world erupts into A vast universe, Farther than even our mother’s hands Can reach to the ends of.
You don’t write love poems For people who love you You write love poems For the people you love… I learned this in the hospital
It couldn't go forward any other way. She would wait for him. Remnants of someone else's flesh caught between his teeth and she would wait for him.
You will inevitably spot him as you enter a hole in the wall open mic on a random Monday during one of Florida’s sorry excuses for winter.
You wrote articles that said we don’t exist anymore That we died out 2 generations After Columbus 1st set foot On the beaches we taught our kids to swim in and welcome strange white creatures
They may tell you Stand your ground alone, That this world is no place for determined people with hearts like taxi’s. Don’t you listen to them.
The minutes seem so short when I'm with you... And if I'm sick with lust you're the cure. But I'm afraid to do the things I want to do with you, and I'm hooked on you for sure..."
You loved the classics, always the classics. Your taste was more old school than new philosophy. You rocked suede Nike’s over Jordans and Kangols over fitteds.
Know your home from your heart sailor! For neither belong on this island. You think my kind ravenous but I want you to get away.
I am a poet… I’ll tell you what you need to hear In between the lines of what you want to. You will quote me. You will quote me.
