Scars/To the New Boyfriend/Girlfriend

One, If i could, i would nail these hands to the edges of stars. 
I would sacrifice this body to the sky hoping to resurrect that someone’s spiteful enough to not care about you anymore. 
Two, Staple me to a cross. 
Pierce my side with the broken promise & i will bleed all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance. 
Three, Loving you was the last thing i felt really good at. 
Four, You wanna know how i got these scars.
See i ripped every last piece of you out of my smile.
Five, I whispered you Stardust,
Six, I spoke you into Sunflowers, 
Seven, I dipped in my hands in Forever, 
I touched you Infinity,
Treated you, as if you were the last molecule of oxygen in side of a gas chamber- 
I was good to you. 
Eight, You wanna know how i got these scars. 
See i swallowed my pride & then it crawled its way out of my mouth,
Nine, I realized that i was never really your boyfriend,
I was just your fucking height man. 
Ten, I hope your next boyfriend gets small pox,
Ten, YES. i said small pox! 
Ten, I hate you, 
Ten, But i still miss you,
Ten, & a part of me still loves you,
Ten, It gets hard for me to count when i get emotional,
Ten, I heard that over ninety percent of human interaction is nonverbal so… 
Ten, If i could, i would tie your arms to a daydream & then auction you off to my fondest memories.
 

To the random dude who started dating my ex-girlfriend two days after we broke up,
yes, i saw that Shit on facebook.
Now when i realized that you were in a relationship with a girl that i thought i’d someday spend the rest of my life with, 
I walked outside, i said to myself “there’s no way Ashton Kutcher’s gunna catch me off guard,”
I waited forty-five minutes. 
& then i realized, that there hasn’t been a new episode of Punk in damn near four years..
So i guess i’m the only practical Joke in this entire situation. 
 

One, The first time i saw you & her in a picture,
I wanted to take my entire arm, shove it inside of the computer, & snatch the happiness right off of your face.
Two, If i ever see you in the street…
I’m probably going to punch you in the throat.
Three, I apologize in advance.
& I know that it makes no sense to have this much anger toward a man that i’ve never actually met face to face, 
But my definition of Love, is being robbed in an alley eight times in a row
& hoping there’s something about today that makes all of this Different.
There is nothing logical, about cutting off the most important parts of yourself 
& then putting them inside of hands
that Shake,
that Tremble,
that Crack like a hayashen sidewalk.
Four, There is nothing rational about love. 
Your love stutters when it gets nervous, 
Your love trips over its own shoelaces, 
Love, is clumsy & my heart refuses to wear a helmet. 
Five, cupid is fucking irresponsible, 
& i’m tired of him using me for target practice.
Six, I was told that time would heal all wounds.
But what exactly do you do on days when it feels like the hands on your clock have arthritis. 
Seven, She always wore her heart on her sleeves, 
So tell me why the hell do you look so familiar.
Eight, I think i’ve seen you somewhere in her smile, 
Like i’ve heard your voice in her laughter,
Like i’ve smelled your cologne on her thighs,
I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints we would only find yours.. 
Nine, I have this envelope, it’s full of all the butterflies that i felt the first time she relaxed the Velcro on her lips & smiled in my direction,
I think most of them are still alive, 
I guess these belong to you too.  

-Rudy Francisco

(Source: doseofashleevu)

When i like someone, i always tend to go out of my way for that person. If i make plans with them, i make sure that those plans happen, regardless of how much trouble i have to go through. I’d do anything just to be the reason behind their smile & why they’re happy. That person becomes my first priority. But why is it that whenever i go the extra mile for that someone, they don’t even show any effort that they care as much as i do? It’s always ME doing things first, throwing in the other hand, trying to save the flame from burning out, while they just sit back & watch you break your back over something that consists of TWO people, not just one. I just want them to care as much as i do, to want me as bad as i want them. It’s agonizing being the one to worry & stress over someone who doesn’t show as much effort about how they really feel about you. I’m honestly really starting to hate being the only one that actually gives a shit. 

(Source: doseofashleevu)

Haven’t had the time to. But i will soon though!(: Maybe even today. 

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately & all i really wanted to do was just to have someone sit there & listen to some things that been going through my mind. Usually, i bottle up my feelings & hide them from people, but i guess today i wanted to try something new. So i asked my dad if we could cruise to the beach. No, not to actually go in the water n’ shit. But just to sit in the car beneath the night sky, admiring the surroundings & the fresh air. Knowing, that since he is the only person who has ever witnessed one of my break downs & that actually talked me through it, maybe he can just sit & listen. Although, since he has changed throughout the year, it seems as though he no longer trusts me. Kinda fucked up. But i still gave it a shot.

When we left the house, we stopped by at McDonald’s for some ice cream, my treat. As we arrived at the beach parking lot, we just sat in the car, no words to be said. It’s dark & only a few dim lights are lit & the only thing you can really see or hear is the high tides rushing to the shore. He was just on his phone constantly, while i was kicked back in the passenger seat admiring palm trees i couldn’t even see. It didn’t feel awkward, actually…i liked the silence. Even if there was nothing to be said, i enjoyed just absorbing the little moments life can give you. I don’t normally do this with my dad. This is a “once in a blue moon” type of thing. There is never a day we have a normal conversation without yelling or screaming at each other, so i thought maybe things will maybe change a little bit if we just chill. Eventually, we eased out of the quiet atmosphere & began to talk about a couple of things. Again, he started yelling & criticizing me. He then asked me a question that put salt on the wounds. I found it funny that he was completely oblivious due to the fact that i was crying quietly right next to him. But at the end of the day, I really didn’t get to say what i truly felt like saying. I kept contemplating with myself whether i should say what was on my mind to my dad. I kept wondering if he would think of me different or he would lose trust & faith in me. In the end, i ended up bottling up my feelings once again. 

Love Poem

“I’m gonna be honest; I’m not really a love poet. In fact every time I try to write about love, my hands cramp, just to show me how painful love can be. Sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little bit more work than you planned.

See, I heard that love is blind, so I write all my poems in Braille. And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless. See, I always believe that real love is kind of like a supermodel before she’s airbrushed. It’s pure, and imperfect, just the way that God intended.

I’m gonna be honest; I’m not a love poet. But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love… I swear that my first poem- it would be about you. About how I love you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared. But reckless. With no training wheels, or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.

You see, I’m not really a love poet. But if I was, I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window. You see, I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow, maybe some way you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me because if you were here, right now, I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words. Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name, and you smile like the Pacific Ocean- I want to drink the sunlight in your skin.

If I was a love poet, I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful, even on days when everything around you is ugly. You see, I’d write about your eyelashes and how they’re like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink. If I was a love poet, I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice. And whenever I see your name on the caller ID, my heart- it plays hopscotch inside of my chest. It climbs on to my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again. I know this sounds strange but every now and then, I pray that God somehow turns you back into one of my ribs just so I would never have to spend an entire day without you.

But I swear, I’m not a love poet. But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning, and decide that I really wanted to write about love, you’re my first poem; it would be about you.

Now, after all of that, she was like, “So how do you feel about me?”

And I said, “Let’s put it like this: I want to be your ex-boyfriend’s stuntman. I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do, like- trust you.

I swear that when our lips touch, I can taste the next sixty years of my life. And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just so you can be part of me a bit longer. If I could, I would sample your smile, and then I would let my heartbeat do the bass line. We would create the greatest love song of all time. Whenever we stand next to each other- love, I was the only one made for you, and you- can be at last, my Etta James. I’ll be all child when you’re in pain. Or you can be candy-coated drops of rain even though it never rains in Southern California. And together, we could be music. And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend, I’ll say, NO. she is my musician. And me… I’m her favorite song.”

-Rudy Francisco 

(Source: http)