the writer or the muse.

you feel like poetry/

sharp, like edges on a fresh page.

that cut if you don’t handle with care.

you feel like poetry/

warm, like a flame can,

if you get just close enough to it.

what’s the difference between close enough and too close?

and at what point are you too far gone?

i swear, i can’t tell the difference these days.

or perhaps, i just never learned to tell.

you feel like poetry/

real, like poems you read so many times, they archive as true stories do.

what was real

and what was not ?

i guess, that just depends on who you ask…

the writer or the muse.

A Moment in time

i think we forgot the importance of context,

trying to keep-up with the content.   

give me context.

i need context.

it’s hard for me to keep up..

not with your updates,

but with the story line(s).

is this how we want to be remembered ?

is this how you want to be remembered ?

is this how i want to be remembered?

frozen still:

picture perfect,

& wordless.

through a series of stories,

but story-less.

in this moment in time….

highlight reels,

& low self-esteem.

socially connected,

& still isolated.

put down the machine.

tell me your story,

& let me read you these words.

get to know where i come from. what i’m going through. what i’m looking forward to.

instead of assuming based on the things that you see… based on the things that i decide to share.

there’s so much i don’t show but can tell.

i’d tell you if you’d ask or engaged me.

…beyond boosting your engagement.

…beyond boosting your own ego.

but, that’s a conversation for the soul.

when you are ready to have it…

conversaciones con extraños

como te va?

hace tiempo que no hablamos…

cuéntame de ti,

a donde estas ?

viviste, lo que querías vivir?

mis oídos te oyen hablar,

pero ya no reconocen tu voz.

algunas cosas nunca cambian…. cierto?

yo te escucho,

y tu…

siempre me dices lo que sabes que yo quiero oír.

a lo mejor no lo sabía antes, pero lo se hoy.

los años no pasan por gusto.

la vida.

la vida es cínica.

y tu, que no crees en el destino…

pero bueno, a qui estamos.

sabiendo todo lo que sabemos,

conociendo nos, como nos conocemos,

y conversando como si fuéramos dos desconocidos