She promised this too shall past. 

That one day I’ll find a love that won’t make the mornings feel like dancing with the devil. 

She says one day I will know what it feels like to wake up without the room spinning. 

She tells me this in the mornings when she stomps around my room to pick up the empty glasses from the night before. 

She pulls the curtains so the sun can slap me in the face; her blunt way of telling me she thinks I’m being ridiculous. 

She’s passive. 

She doesn’t ask what happened. 

She doesn’t cry in front of me. 

She doesn’t beg me to stop. 

No, she’s a stubborn woman, stubborn enough to know that this world of sympathy will never get me anywhere. 

You look pathetic she tells me one night when she walks in on me in the kitchen with my eyeliner smearing down my cheeks with a bottle of Jameson on the counter.  

What kind of strong women are you suppose to be, crying over some man.  

Dear Ex-Lover

 Dear ex-Lover,

 

You could never understand the fear of having a good thing if you don’t know what it is like to lose everything. If anything, I told him to keep the lights off. It is easier to forget regrets name when he is difficult to see.  He did nothing right. His hands were cold like the barrel of a gun before the shot is fired. I told him to keep the lights off. He didn’t know the road map. He skipped the scenic route. There was nothing good about this love. I didn’t mean to pull the trigger.

Your new love, she is pretty. She is the sound of waves on a first date. I wonder if you ever talk about us, about me. If the words you use still hurt the roof of your mouth when you speak them. I found her shopping for groceries one day; I followed her to see what it was about her that you liked. To see if she was better than me. She roamed each isle like I do. When she picked up items I wonder if she too imagined the feast she could put together for you. Yet unlike me she put the items in her cart. She was so confident in what she wanted, I was always scared from even the smallest commitment.  

I chatted with a man who resembled you last night. He was wearing your favorite shirt. I don’t remember the name he gave me. All I committed to memory was how just like you, his eyes disappeared when he laughed or the favorite shirt you’d let me wear after long nights like these. Nights where we chased the morning sun home. Although he resembled you in the dim lights blinded by the Whiskey, he couldn’t pull off your steeze.

419 days is a long enough time to let pass by. Too many stories have been read to convince me that not all fairy tales begin and end the same way. We can be our own fairy tale. Can we be our own fairy tale? I have seen the other side and the grass isn’t greener. I have crawled into the bottom of loneliness; I have battled its demons. I know it’s cliché but if it comes back then it is yours. I am yours.  I am a Porterhouse steak, I just needed to age. 419 days is a long enough time to let pass by, my Love.  

I am currently taking a creative writing class, this was my attempt at prose poetry.

This song somewhat helped with the theme of the piece.

 

 

“But see, you came back to me. You always come back. In between and beyond the others. That’s my magic. You come back to me.”

- Sandra Cisneros

“Anger, as long as you don’t use it against yourself, if you use it in a positive way, is wonderful energy…”

-Sandra Cisneros 

 

Banksy

I’m taking a creative writing class. Each week we are given essays to write using different writing formats. This is an essay I did for a hermit crab format and I did it in the form of footnotes.  

10 Ways To Break Your Fucking Heart

1.      Find out one of your FAVORITE Hip Hop artist will be having a show.[1]

2.      Find out you will be in the same state at that time of the show. Realize you won’t be in the same city as the show though. [2]

3.      Put up a very convincing argument and get your brother to buy you a round trip ticket from the city you’ll be in to the city of the show.[3]

4.      Lay in bed that night just smiling because you are going to see your favorite artist LIVE![4]

5.      Tell your friends who are in the city of the show when you will be there and that they need to accompany you to make the enjoyment even more enjoyable.[5]

6.      Think about buying presold tickets for yourself and anyone who is down to go with you to the show. You don’t buy the tickets, thinking you have a lot of time to do so. [6]

7.      Two days before the show and you’re in the same city. [7]

8.      It’s the day of the concert. You spend that day imagining the songs he will play. You think about buying presold tickets but still don’t because they keep advertising so it’s not sold out yet.[8]

9.      I take my time to get ready. We get to the show and wait in line.[9]

10.  We get told it’s sold out.[10]

---

[1] Surfing on Instagram one day and Bambu posts a picture stating he will he have a show on August 16, 2013 in San Francisco! He has a sick line up of other rappers who will also be sharing the stage with him.

[2]  Checked my itinerary and I will be in Los Angeles during that time. I tell myself I have to get to San Francisco to watch that show. I ask my  cousins/ friends who live in California and they all tell me that’s like and eight hour drive and I kept hitting road blocks on ways to get there.

[3] My brother lives in San Francisco and I argue with him that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me. I used the excuse that because I live on Guam when I would get another chance to see him. He agrees to buy me a round trip ticket from Los Angeles to San Francisco then back so I can catch to show.

[4] I’m just all smiles. Words couldn’t even explain how excited I was. I’d listen to his music and imagine him pulling me on stage with him and rapping a song with him.

[5] I want to tell the world that I’m going to the show, I don’t. I settle by telling my friends who live in San Francisco that they have to come with me so they could understand why I LOVE Bambu. My friends and I don’t all listen to the same kind of music. Especially with me, because I listen to underground Hip Hop so I wanted to share this experience with them.

[6] I’m so amped I think about buying everyone tickets. Because I’m inviting them, I feel like I should be the one to treat them. But I guess because of my Guam mentality I don’t buy tickets. I think it won’t sell out and I still have a lot of time before the show to buy tickets.

[7] At this time I’ve already been on vacation a little over two weeks. I’ve been busy seeing family, eating, meeting new people, sightseeing, being real touristy. But two days before the show and I’m finally here I think to myself. I’m finally going to see Bambu. So my excitement is at a 10x high right now.

[8] For some reason something kept telling me to buy advance tickets. Even my friend brings it up and I tell her “nah, we don’t have to.” There was so much advertisement on Instagram, blogs and on Facebook about the show that in my mind they must still have a lot of tickets to sell if they are still advertising the day of the show.

[9] Call it Guam time style but the show starts at 9 PM, my friend said we will leave the house at 8:30 because it takes about 30 minutes to get to San Francisco. At 8:30 while she was ready to go I just start to get ready. My friend had to remind me that I’m not on Guam anymore and it doesn’t take 10 minutes to get anywhere and parking is crazy to find in the city, even at night and most especially because it’s a Friday.

[10]  We get to Brick and Mortar, the place that’s holding the show. Small line outside and we wait. I take a picture of the marquee with Bambu’s name for memories. I kept saying “oh my gosh I’m here.” My purse is a little heavy because I bring a ‘Straight out of Guamton’ t-shit and a bag of the Chamorro chocolate chip cookies I brought from Guam that I plan on giving Bambu. In my head I see Bambu before he takes the stage. Tell him my long story about how I’m a fan all the way from Guam, everything I did to get to this show and I buy him a drink. I’m smiling. Five minutes past still standing in line and then this guy walks bout to the crowd and tells us that they are sold out.

My heart drops.

I had the chance to see Bambu, Rocky Rivera, Ruby Ibarra and Rey Rez live while I was on vacation. As you can see after reading this essay I didn’t catch them. I’m honestly devastated. But I couldn’t show it. I couldn’t be devastated in front of people. It’s not that I didn’t want to be devastated or show how disappointed I was but I guess I already felt something like this was too good to be true. I feel like every time I build sooo much hype about something it’ll never follow through, the way I want it to. So I learn to try not to make a big deal at things that happen in my life. I “just let it happen.” But damn, I really did want to catch them.