Monday, April 2, 2012

Day Two

Language of Love
they all talk around me
and it never stops. “Le gustaria pintar los gabinetes de otro color?”
until I can’t hear my own thoughts
I love them, I love him

but I can’t understand.
I’m transported to an alternate universe
in their homes. I’m an alien.
“… y la estufa creo que es negra”

and everyday. I’m surrounded.
and I can hear the words spoken,
I see them laugh, the only language I understand.
I laugh, wondering.

What am I missing out on?
If only I could understand.

I laughed at the things I did not know,
the things I couldn’t understand.

And I’m in America.
But I’m in Guatemala.

Day One

You Can’t
You can’t choose what stays
and what fades away.

And you can wish, hope, pray
for the best. But that more than likely

isn’t what you get. You get
what is handed to you.

And you deal with it.
It isn’t what you dreamt of
or what you set out to do.

You probably never will become who
you wanted to be as a kid.

And your best friend from your neighborhood
isn’t always going to live next door.
And people grow apart. People leave.

The world doesn’t stop, it’s always moving

even when you can’t feel it.
And even when time has passed
and day by day you feel the same,

you wake up tomorrow and feel like a different person.
This isn’t who you thought you were

 supposed to be.

But this is who you are.
And you can choose what you eat for breakfast
and whether or not you keep your job at the bank.

                                    But you can’t choose who you are.
                                    And you can’t control who you’re meant to be.

You can’t choose what stays
and what fades away.