Writing

Recuerdo cuando mis pies tocan la arena

cuando los cangrejos me dan cosquillas

Busque los recuerdos y los hallé

En el puesto del sol

Cuando se acuesta por el día

Doesn’t know what to say

The homes in her heart aren’t hers to claim

One word isn’t enough

One word shuts her up

Foreigners have to pay more 
At the thick metal door.

Inside we see a hippo

I rise and know that something new is here.
It smells of pine laughter and undefined. 
Hands pressed to frosty glass outside I peer. 
Its purity and peace makes me blind.

I wonder what it would be like to not love you.

What would happen if I let go?

I didn't hold on tight enough when it counted,

and now I'm stuck not able to let the rest of you slip through the cracks. 

I want to kill the world.

I want to kill the world because 

it has been killing me slowly for the past two years.