Poison.

I always ponder about eloquent beings and their need to heard,

blasting away unnecessary cheap knowledge they just read on Google,

quoting books they never read and songs they never understood,

reminiscing about things they never did and saw someone do.

I truly wonder about what is the deal with standing out in banal conversations,

How people fall in love in the middle of talks about the weather,

or how things used to be.

I fall in love everyday. Maybe just for a second, but I do.

I miss my books everyday as well, the time I used to spend with them,

and how joyful a cup of coffee can be.

I miss how my niece used to get all her drool over my shoulder as I carried her

and sang Guns & Roses ‘s Patience, waltzing back and forth in my living room

until she went into her dreams.

We all grow into this nucleus of love, hate, hunger and attitude,

we get some gray hair and begin everyday to figure our lives out.

But we don’t. We never do. We are too busy translating the chaos that is

to breathe and connect.

So we drink, fuck and work. Not in that order usually.

we expect and expect, we dance and we cook,

waiting to know which will be our poison for the day.

Everyday I feel my smiles on my face more vivid, closer.

Older smiles. 

I guess we just pick our poison. We do. We always do.