How It All Started
Finally 16 …
Another year without my dad being here by my side.
At least I still get to listen to his sweet voice that brings joy in me.
I continue to feel alone even when I’m surround by many.
To me it’s as if their thoughts are silent, as if they don’t exist even when they are right beside me.
I have alienated my family and everyone else who turn their back on me.
Those sharp knives have annihilated the shinning glass leaving behind nothing but broken pieces.
And it just can’t be fixed.
People tend to unintentionally break what they can’t fix it.
All I have is my little sister, the highlight of my day, now she is gone.
Being alone is what I’m best at.
Weird, how I don’t know or ever noticed you before but you did.
It begins with us texting each other every other day.
From the start I feel comfortable towards you.
Oh how you treasure listening to my voice, especially when I laugh.
I could sense your smile through the phone.
They ask me, how was your summer? I say …
The only good thing about this summer is I met someone who stood by me, through my worries and disconsolation.
I’m still struggling.
Can’t seem to understand, why I should keep going in life if all chances are lost.
Then it hits me.
I realize I didn’t make it this far for any reason. Can’t give up now.
And there you are standing right by side, admiring me with such deep thought
Makes me wonder what’s on your mind?
But I rather not spoil this moment.
Our first kiss
You lean close to me and approach my lips
The way your lips connect with mine, creating this special spark I myself can’t explain.
The feeling is so amazing and it’s as if my lips had been waiting to be kissed with such warmth.
I no longer feel lifeless.
The End of October
Our daily routine is everyday taking walks and talking about our day, afterschool.
I learn the passion you have for music.
I notice, you are very explicit about everything you say.
That’s what I like about you.
You spread the stuff that you admire, to make someone else admire too.
I learn something from you each day that inspires me.
You are just inevitable.
The feeling is so amazing; I don’t want it to go away.
Saying goodbye the hardest thing we have to do.
Don’t want this journey to end.
You are imprinted in me, in my heart.
I don’t want to go.
I hug you for the last time and I just don’t want to let go.
“What I have” became to “what I had”.
Didn’t think it would be this hard.
Feels like I’m falling down a precipice.
I’m alone again.
We still talk now and then.
But we slowly fade away.
I can’t move on from you.
Seems to me that everywhere I go, I carry our precious memories that I refuse to let go from.
So much sadness in me.
I begin to write one day and the only way I can express myself is through writing these poems.
Writing is my passion.
I found my hideaway.
Still no sign from you.
I’m slowly getting myself back up.
I have accomplished a lot of things.
Found my true passions.
I still carry you in my heart
Hoping one day I will see you again.
New love tries to appear and all of the sudden you show up again.
You tell me “I don’t want to move on”
Many thoughts run through my mind all at once.
I conceive my love for you and decide to wait for the right moment.
Today is the day.
I feel so jittery for our encounter.
I see you and my eyes can’t believe what they are seeing.
It is right then when we kiss I realize that spark hasn’t died, it’s still alive.
For the first time I feel it in me, this vehement desire to say it to you..
But you beat me to it and say “I love you”
I can feel the intense feeling running through every inch of my body and
I take a moment, exhale and say
“I love you too”
This is our new vow…
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Comments about this poem (How It All Started by Barbara Hernandez )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(12 May 1828 – 9 April 1882)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Ralph Waldo Emerson
(1803 - 1882)
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