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”

today

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.