claudiapena.com

Woman in darkness
incessant confessions
that scream to a void:
Escucha tù voz!
Destapa tus ojos!
Vive esta vida!

Adoración que tu eres
Escucho mares
que derraman de ti!
Ironía del mundo,
plenitud de tu ser
buscado una luz
Cuándo eres un faro
acopando galaxias

Take out your light
Speak out your strength
Seek out your soul
And liberate your Love
Baila morena, baila!
Y saca tu sol

add to del.icio.us

I want to run up and kiss him, hug him
Tell him that everything will be okay
Sooth his worries like he once did for me
Kiss his anticipations away,
Everything will be okay

My brother, the tattoo artist, scoffs at the idea of barcodes, “That’s so lame. Everyone does that. If you’re going to get something make it original to you.” The other retorts, “Because I feel like it. Because to corporate America, I am like that can of food with bars. I hate that and they never fail to remind me at work. I am a human being. I do not need to be treated like a piece of replaceable, perishable, abstract anything. I got feelings!” I wonder walking by the conversation, “Yeah, but then how many other people will understand original?”

Heart break feels like a ridiculously heavy pen making squiggly marks out of emotionally weighted words that blurr and smear into the oblivion of salty tears. Everything will be okay. After 3 years, I welcome the offer of a new job far, far out of town to keep my mind off my own life and start over. That would solve everything. Except dealing with the pain inside myself.

I can’t sleep. My feet are cold. I wonder if he knows.
I am not sinking but unloved feels like
the depth of my heart will never end
5 months work lost, undelivered, unchallenged, unwilling, unworthy, a disappointment
Worthless for human being/artist/mother
Yeah, I know they are just words, but they hurt so much
Why did I always surprise you at work?
I gave my family, talent, time, heart and emotion and it meant nothing
You hurt me where you know it hurt the most
I passed on that opportunity, wondering how you could do that to me,
When I would never do that to you or anyone else?
Wondering, why your pride keeps you happier than me
Asking God to make me weaker and more fearful and succumbing to you,
so maybe you’ll like me, so I can lightly trace your eye brows with my thumb again.
I feel like such a fool.
It is the human drama
But no one is at fault, right? Right.
I’m setting the words,
offloading an image,
vomiting an emotion,
unloading a burden
sending any baggage back
emailing the picture of us in pink dew roses,
Setting everything free,

so I can love a gain.
Not everything is what it seems
It’s still cold outside.