Sharlene Alba
Bio
Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry MissBeautyBargain Facebook: grungefirepoetry
Stories (287)
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7 Letters: Letter 3
Dear Second Chapter, I went to the bookstore today. I'm sure you know which novel I picked out first. You've been in between my tear-stained pages and pen for so long, I know you wouldn't be surprised that I pulled out a novel with the greatest kind of tragedy, dying for love in vain. Could you imagine if that had happened to us? What if I had taken that bullet for you and you had left me there to embrace a slow and painful death? What if you had ripped me apart, and molded me into your favorite kind of phone call to make when you couldn't breathe, and I never answered?
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Poets
7 Letters: Letter 4
To The Man I Hope You Turned Out To Be, I bought a special dress to wear for you tonight. It’s red. Your favorite color. I laugh as I write this because I remember why it’s your favorite. It was the night of my senior prom and I was frantically pacing back and forth, rambling on about how I couldn’t find my brand new bracelet that I had bought to match my gown. The silky fabric wrapped around me was long, a rich crimson color, with a plunging neckline that almost reached my navel. I knew it was certainly risky to show up to a high school dance in this type of dress, knowing there’d be a gym full of boys who’d be completely wasted and more than willing to take advantage of such a naive seventeen year old girl. Once I had found the bracelet, I placed it on my slender wrist and took one last look in the mirror. I remember frowning because I felt dirty. I felt sick. Unhappy only because I didn’t think I was pretty enough to be seen in such a stunning dress, the result of opinions coming from ignorant lips. But then you appeared. You stood behind me, just a breath away. Your eyes, they looked like something I’d never seen before. They looked like they’d found something they’d been looking for. The chocolate pools had been wide with astonishment and wandering with curiosity and appreciation. You looked like you had found something that had always belonged to you.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Poets
7 Letters: Letter 2
To My Favorite Daydream, Do you know you’re in every scenario that I can think of? There’s one where I wake up in the morning, and the first thing I smell is the scent of your aftershave on my pillow. It's the most delicious scent. So masculine and strong. The aroma causes a soft and hazy smile to form on my dry lips, like a woman after her first mind-blowing climax, or letting chocolate melt and spread over your taste buds after weeks of dieting. There’s another particular scenario in which I come home from a long day of work, completely sodden from head to toe due to the heavy rains outside our windows that matched my mood. I have my usual frown on my face but then I see you appear from my bedroom, in nothing but black boxer shorts and a cup of coffee in your hand. Your glasses are falling off of the bridge of your crooked nose and I can't help but giggle at the sight. You do that you know, make everything better by doing nothing at all, by remaining a figment of my imagination, because otherwise you’d be real and we can't have that. I love molding you into my perfect summer day, and having you in front of me, alive, breathing, sighing beneath me, it would only cause this dysfunctional heart to stop beating.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Poets
7 Letters: Letter 1
Dear Twenty-Four Year Old You, I kind of imagined this moment, where I would bump into you and everything would make sense in my life. A moment where I could lay my eyes on you, and everything would slow down. I would take a breath and just know that everything would change. I always knew it would happen like this. Unexpected and painfully slow. Like coming into contact with something foreign yet too fascinating to look away from. And there you were. With your perfect dark hair, and those soft hazel eyes and that smile that made my heart skip a beat. That smile...it haunted me for years. I had no idea who it belonged to, but it was enough to keep a girl up at night. Everywhere I went, I compared you to every guy I saw. Strangers sipping coffee on sidewalks, mysterious men on motorcycles wearing black leather jackets, the everyday heroes that stopped crime and put out fires. Artists that painted their souls on blank canvases with worn out paintbrushes or poured their hearts out using nothing but a broken heart and an acoustic guitar. I didn't want you to be any of those faceless people.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Poets
