no se raje, chicanita.
I don't write anymore. Why is this? I feel a void because of it. It appears that there's a hole deep inside my heart that only words seem to fill. They like to stick to the edges and pile up on one another. One after the ot[her].
*
Another one survives. God, I don't understand why this fucking shit has to happen. Correction: HAPPENS. It seems it's never ending, this violence against bodies. I wonder if these assholes have any idea what they're doing? What they are destroying so that those disgusting bloodfilled organs can feel something? Is it because they've become so numb that the only way to feel something is to tear about the heart of someone else? Or is it pure selfishness? What the fuck is it that makes men think its okay to rape, mutilate, and destroy women?
They just discovered rebel groups using rape camps in Cote Ivoire.
Another million women. Another broken, breaking, bending, heart.
Add another notch on the bed post you good for nothing fuckers.
......
I can't get you out of my head. Hearing your tears(isn't it interesting that we spell the falling of water from our eyes the same way we spell the forced separation of something? Tear) hit something inside me. A button of sorts. It felt like each one that fell gained more and more momentum, pressing against a tin box filled with rust.
I miss sofia so much in this moment. All I want to do is cry and be told that I'm loved and that you my deep friend are loved and that you'll make it through this that you'll survive that you won't let it break you that you won't let it take you that you'll stand tall and find your strength somewhere between your broken heart and broken body.
I wish i had a band-aid to place on your broken heart, add the required amount of neosporin and give a kiss to seal the deal.
But it's not that easy. hearts are complicated things and souls, well let's just not even go there. I told you today, my words may not be of much support but my heart is more soulace (spelling intentional) that you could ever imagine.
So I'm sending you what i've got: federal express, return sender: my heart.
*
Oh my sofia. It seems my thoughts never seem to fully wander away from you. love feels so much more comforting this time around. is it you, or is it me, or is it us? Whatever it is, I've become accustomed to your body next to mine when the stars fall and to be able to see your face when the sun rises. I cant wait for those moments again.
wow. I'm such an emo.
i better stop before i do more harm than good with these letters of language.
sigo pensando en ti.
erika c/s
*
Another one survives. God, I don't understand why this fucking shit has to happen. Correction: HAPPENS. It seems it's never ending, this violence against bodies. I wonder if these assholes have any idea what they're doing? What they are destroying so that those disgusting bloodfilled organs can feel something? Is it because they've become so numb that the only way to feel something is to tear about the heart of someone else? Or is it pure selfishness? What the fuck is it that makes men think its okay to rape, mutilate, and destroy women?
They just discovered rebel groups using rape camps in Cote Ivoire.
Another million women. Another broken, breaking, bending, heart.
Add another notch on the bed post you good for nothing fuckers.
......
I can't get you out of my head. Hearing your tears(isn't it interesting that we spell the falling of water from our eyes the same way we spell the forced separation of something? Tear) hit something inside me. A button of sorts. It felt like each one that fell gained more and more momentum, pressing against a tin box filled with rust.
I miss sofia so much in this moment. All I want to do is cry and be told that I'm loved and that you my deep friend are loved and that you'll make it through this that you'll survive that you won't let it break you that you won't let it take you that you'll stand tall and find your strength somewhere between your broken heart and broken body.
I wish i had a band-aid to place on your broken heart, add the required amount of neosporin and give a kiss to seal the deal.
But it's not that easy. hearts are complicated things and souls, well let's just not even go there. I told you today, my words may not be of much support but my heart is more soulace (spelling intentional) that you could ever imagine.
So I'm sending you what i've got: federal express, return sender: my heart.
*
Oh my sofia. It seems my thoughts never seem to fully wander away from you. love feels so much more comforting this time around. is it you, or is it me, or is it us? Whatever it is, I've become accustomed to your body next to mine when the stars fall and to be able to see your face when the sun rises. I cant wait for those moments again.
wow. I'm such an emo.
i better stop before i do more harm than good with these letters of language.
sigo pensando en ti.
erika c/s