#longpoems

When the world’s crumbling

and the skies are falling down

and there’s nothing left to be said,

if this is the end,

let us fall apart then.

Our bodies will be aching,

until we finally meet death,

let us hope for a better beginning then.

When everything’s falling apart,

between you and I,

when there’s nothing left but misery,

resentments come back to life.

I’ll never forget though,

the day we met,

so pure and innocent as it was.

But now the world is crumbling

and the skies are falling down

and there’s nothing left to be said.

Because our hearts won’t stop aching,

until we finally meet death

and if there’s a new beginning,

let’s hope for a sweeter one

where we already meet in heaven.

 -Tatiana Flores, 30.12.2020

Hey boy,

look at me:

I‘m a broken toy.

Someone bought

and then left me

broken on this

cold filthy ground.

Played with me

one day and

one more night.

Christmas‘s eve

and the day after,

that was my life.

Hey boy,

look at me:

I‘m a broken toy.

Someone bought

and then left me

broken on this

cold filthy ground.

I solely wanted

to let you know,

that I love you.

I dream of you

every night and

every single day.

We could both

play war against

the rest of this

broken world.

Hey boy,

look at me:

I love you.

But all you see

when you look

at me is probably

solely a broken toy.

-Tatiana Flores

📸 & editing: IG @tatianareally_arts

i. there were dark circles under my eyes,

crescent-shaped like the moon's phases

holding 7 kgs of odd-shaped insecurities,

with inverted hooks around the neck and arms

dragging my concrete slab grey soul with yellow cranes

over the 49 ft tall red brick walls,

that I have built to never show you what's

been happening underneath. I cannot face you.

ii. I lie. I lied.

" Is there something you want me to know?''

"nothing."

call ended-beep-cee-dead silence.

chilled wind window and strawberry milkshake

over my table with a partially bitten chocolate cake

everything but just not me

nothing- is a frosting to cover up burnt truths that upset your stomach

and sting in your tongue

iii. needles move in a rhythm over my abdomen, blood-rivers spiralling in doctor's report as it were a bad prophecy yelling how I have lost the ability to conceive, this is the fourteenth time I wish I were a man. I cannot move.

my mother is crying

iv. women gather around to celebrate this last night, decorating it with their chatters, I hear a soft murmur of my name, so soft that It reminded me of your hisses over an attempt to kiss over my earlobes.

"Her cries echo in her bathroom"

blind eyes cannot see pain, yet she knows. I cannot break the seal over my mouth. My sink overflows and I keep the tap open so that sobbing voices faint with the sounds of flowing water. Flowing rivers are carrying tears, why do you think there's so much salt in the water?

iv. I told the boy who expressed his love to forget me. His legs shook and he begged me to puncture his head with a hammer.

Is forgetting harder than dying?

I don't want to tell him what happens after everyone smells his love painted over my checks so I tell him that I still love you, not him.

" leave"

" the person you'll love will be the luckiest"

he vanishes forever.

I cannot love.

v. I lost the language of celebration and I cannot leave my hurting poetry to words that dance over the hurt. so, let me hide behind these 49ft walls forever.

I cannot show up.

not show up

no show

no shhh.

shhh.

Idk

When I have a daughter

I won’t be like any other mother

When I have a daughter

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of bringing us down.

I’ll teach her how to not rely on others.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of disappointing us when we’re on the high mountain.

I won’t be like any other mother

I’ll show her that there is no heart break chocolate can’t fix.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life is made out of sugar, it can crumble so easily.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of bringing us down.

I’ll teach her to never give all of her heart to a boy she cannot trust.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life isn’t the fairy tale we all hoped for.

I won’t be like any other mother.

When I have a daughter

I’ll tell her “Even though she is a size of a peanut, she can still change the world.”

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of bringing us down.

I’ll teach her to create a dream-world to escape from our world.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life will wait until we fail just to kick us when we are down.

I won’t be like any other mother.

I’ll teach her to love her curled hair because she is beautiful the way she is.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life will point out her flaws but to never let it define her.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of bringing us down.

I’ll remind her that her momma is a worrier and her pappa is a warrior.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life isn’t going to hold her back from her dreams.

I’ll teach her that this funny thing called life has it’s way of bringing us down.

When I have a daughter

and the world hands her evil to tell them “You should really meet my mother.”

I won’t be like any other mother.