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  • la_pluma_negra 1w

    Near Death Experience

    came close to death once,
    Suffocating in your love.
    you left... life came back.

    M.DeSilva

  • la_pluma_negra 1w

    you drive the thirst.
    like rain needing water.
    like a river begging for more droplets
    So I sip you, slowly
    Sipping with care.
    I sip
    and I sip.
    Still,
    I am parched.




    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 1w

    ________ follows me home

    Laughter follows me home.
    it finds me first in a pub on 2nd Avenue,
    makes my heart pulsate in my chest a bit.
    circulates the stale blood caught between my left ventricle, and an aching relief.
    It's been 3 weeks since your side of the closet sat empty, and four months
    since I slowly and steadily abandoned our ship without actually leaving.
    See I was already drowning and the boat hadn't even sunk yet. Still the grief was sitting heavy.
    it lingered around until I walked into Murphys.
    My friends they waved me over, and that's when it found me, the laughter.
    That's when it began to settle in. It danced around the bar stools and wooed me with it's smile. It brought me back to something forgotten, filled up the hollows with something intangible, charming its way to close proximity of my soul, until it was so close I had to reach out and grab it. Till it made the corners of my mouth reach for the sky.
    It all started that evening, in that neighborhood pub in the middle of March,
    and since that night, that laughter,
    it hasn't left my home since.
    It hasn't left...
    and it promised me,
    it never will

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 3w

    In another life, I'm heavy heartbeat mesmerized at a bookstore in Brooklyn. 
    my fingers touch almost every cover in the historical non-fiction section, as I slowly make my way down the aisle towards, 
    "Playwrights".
    I see Arthur Miller and reach for the sheets of paper just to my left. We grab at the spine of a first edition print simultaneously, hands grazing. Eyes meeting.
    you smile awkwardly pulling back towards yourself, a loose beige sweater hanging off your shoulder.
    Just enough, for me to see the corner of a tattoo.
    Tucked underneath your right arm is a copy of Dharma Bums,
    and I know then, that I will resign myself to your wants for as long as you let me. 
    that this book is only the beginning and I, 
    I am all butterflies fluttering through belly, heavy heartbeat mesmerized at some bookstore in Brooklyn.
    falling in love with a stranger,
    in some other life

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 3w

    In some other life,
    you are belly laughter full of joy. and I,
    I am watching you evolve. Slowly growing
    stumbling and navigating the complexities of this world. You are,
    still here, in some other life.
    I witness you transition from childhood to adolescence. Adolescence to adulthood.
    stepping into an undiscovered self,
    you are clumsy heartfelt hopeful seeking,
    Learning, unfurling, some days just tying to exist. You are flesh and softness,
    with a little less aching.
    And I, I get to watch you grow old and full bloom,
    bringing flowers to graduation instead of your funeral.

    I get to watch you grow old...
    In some other life.

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 4w

    In another life,
    we are free from the unsolicited burdens of our parents.
    you have not inherited the lack of capacity to be present with your emotions.
    I am securely attached with no fear of abandonment. We do not carry,
    heavy baggage packed by our predecessors.
    It's just us. At the right time in the right place with no wounds to heal.
    We, actually have a chance,
    to love and be loved
    without the heavyness of weight forced upon our shoulders.
    And maybe, just maybe,
    we actually make it In some other life.

    Maybe just maybe...
    In, another life

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 4w

    In another life,
    i undress you slowly. 
    father John misty is background noise against the night, you hum the lyrics and,
    I ask you where you hide your grief.
    hoping you let me taste the pain that makes you laugh so hard in crowded rooms. 
    I tell you that you're beautiful, but it comes out as silent rapture. 
    comes out as me drawing sunsets down the small of your back. 
    I don't even care that you're a Taurus.
    I promise to let you dig heels into the earth and seek comfort in familiarity even when my body aches for roaming. I promise,
    but it comes out wordless.
    It comes out as, lips pressed gently against the parts of you cloaked in copper. 
    I use your body as a piece of paper.
    write you a love poem that sounds like Tasha Sultana live in Austin. we swallow fear. 
    you drink more wine and I 
    ask you what you want for breakfast.
    But it comes out empty.
    and as you fall asleep I watch you naked.
    fully clothed wearing care-free so well. 
    I butterfly kiss your eyelids from across the room. 
    Telling you you're beautiful.
    with silence….

    In, another life.



     
    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 4w

    In another life,
    we are free from the unsolicited burdens of our parents.
    you have not inherited the lack of capacity to be present with your emotions.
    I am securely attached with no fear of abandonment. We do not carry,
    heavy baggage packed by our predecessors.
    It's just us. At the right time in the right place with no wounds to heal.
    We, actually have a chance,
    to love and be loved
    without the heavyness of weight forced upon our shoulders.
    And maybe, just maybe,
    we actually make it In some other life.

    Maybe just maybe...
    In, another life

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 4w

    In some other life,
    your first lie is your last lie,
    because there are no second chances. 
    you message me out of cowardly desperation,
    and instead of a response you,
    get left on read. 

    In, some other life. 

    ©la_pluma_negra

  • la_pluma_negra 5w

    In some other life,
    we are bare bones laughing against the wind,
    feet buried into cold sand. 
    You haven't lived a life without me yet,
    and I have many lovers to go before my heart is ready. 
    Ready to settle. ready to find its other. 
    In some other life,
    we live this romance like we have all the time in the world. 
    Like tomorrow is a faint whisper
    we barely notice. Like,
    the October surf against our toes isn't actually cold.
    Like this is a love not meant to go sour.

    In, some other life.

    ©la_pluma_negra