Everybody is a Little Hard to Love Sometimes

              Felix Madrigal had been to the famous pyramid of Cholula once before, on a holiday trip with his godparents. It was about ten years ago, while he was still in high school. They were staying at his godmothers’ place in Puebla, a much shorter distance from Cholula than Felix’s mother’s town. The ground that day radiated heat and the pyramid seemed suffocating to him. He and his…

the first time we heard it, we were both in bed. you were apologizing for something for something, I can’t remember what but the clawing from the wall startled us. we heard shuffling, scurrying. we turned off the tv we froze, our breathing still as the night until it stopped you might have been looking at me but I couldn’t tell. you went to sleep, I couldn’t. the second time I heard it, I was in…

foam collects at the brim table slanted handwriting uneven rhythmic pulsing from a rocking leg ambient music metronome of ink I am outside // I am inside bitter winds wash my mouth of words better left unsaid fingers leak dripping over pages looking into the headlights I count to ten (for each time I’ve wished I was painted on the hood) teeth grit, impassible accent your words and close your eyes…

coats unhinged from the back of chairs long thin fingers rushing to cover a widening smile painted the color of the sun unraveling thoughts and sounds eyes looking down at a screen at the ground breathe in the air polluted with opinions a dense smog chokes you as you hyperventilate there’s a stillness that’s unrecognizable habitual distortion movement in a still frame touch your face to make sure…

how you took your coffee your favorite song      the winding streets      clockwork metro lines the places you go for comfort–      all details without an anchor drifting in my ocean of memoir plywood soaked with time laughter reverberates in hallways long empty but only recently vacated my therapist told me what’s most difficult are the little goodbyes city lights and your first wine your final…

Them: aw :(

I haven't self promoted myself in a while, and I wanted to start the year with posting a piece. This is my big piece I wrote while in Paris. I hope you enjoy!

     He walked across the Pont de Bir-Hakeim, the winter sun having disappeared and taken the light of day hostage. He stopped at the statue that sat in the circle jutting out slightly from the bride. The statue was of a man riding his horse, his green bronze sword pointing towards the Seine and towards the Eiffel Tower. He stood at the ledge, looking out into the Seine as if trying to find where…

26 Days Until Departure

I got off at Bir-Hakeim instead of Passy, where I live, and walked across the bridge that crosses the Seine. It was raining — it always is — and I had forgotten my umbrella. My shoes were tattered and beaten so the water soaked right through them, my feet cold and damp. My coat not up to the Parisian standard, icy winds slipping through and hugging my body to steal heat. I was ready to be in my…

a group of four cross the street their suitcases trailing in the reflection of cappuccino foam a gated garden grows wildly in the window and not orchestral buzzing That’s what I told you she said Not at all he said hello take a seat “Listen to the sound-” midday laughter “-of my heart” eyes hooked to screens and sheets and hooked to other eyes stop the streetlight tells you That’ll be 5 euro…