It was just always.

"Oh honey, it was just today."

Only today, only tomorrow, only yesterday. Only always. Forgive me for being cynical but I'm reaching for something that nobody can understand and for a call that no one will hearken to. I breathe slower and pedal faster, going nowhere, finding you. Always finding you. At every corner, in every book; my story is getting anti-climatic and you are ruining the plot. Mouthing the words but never speaking them; glancing but never looking at me. Touching your finger to my lips but never daring to linger longer, assuming independence. 

"Oh honey, it was just today."

Just today when he glared and thought I was preoccupied. Just today when I was the dramatic one and it meant less than pennies to anyone else. Just always. Just always. Your narcoleptic limbs amaze me; one moment rushing towards me with the force of every gale that ever gushed through the canyon, and the next indifferent and unaware of my brain studying you and willing you to remember. Your words softly land on my shoulder but are never directed to the source, never attain their full interpretation. Narrow your eyes and focus on who I am for one moment. Remember my name, remember my face, but recognize my deformed figure in a crowd. 

"Oh honey, it was just today."

When I'm transformed into an imaginary voice and an imaginary opinion and he likes it. When I somehow know and he somehow knows too. My fears are worth more than my desires and I despise it. I am contemptuous and unforgiving, and I cannot draw the veil from my eyes. Read me and remember, draw nearer and discover a girl who is different but the same.

I have an explosive temper

My temper is explosive, and my heart
wrenches when you call my name, but
I scream at the bird who chirps at midnight
and the Swedish Fish who disappoint with
their unsoftness and overchewiness.

My temper is explosive, and my ears
ring with the tinge of regret and the
faint outline of fear in the border of
Mexico.

Don't call me in the wrong way and
Don't prod my ribs with the toe of
your steel tipped words. The
negatives of my film are appearing and I
don't believe in what I used to. When I remember
the words I shouted at the mirror and
the reflection I smashed with an attitude
of recalcitrance and stubborn imitation, it
haunts me around every corner and within the concavity of
every spoon I eat with.

When will my endless rhapsody sound its
last note? I force it upon those who
destroy the lined paper that hold my secrets.

My temper is explosive, and my mind
tells me I'm the dictator, the ruler, the queen.
But my only subject disobeys my commands
and the nation of my emotions is
constantly in revolt.

The loyalists are few and the revolutionaries
will soon overtake.

Beware the revolution; beware the free,
they only speak their mind, without a thought
to future consequences.
Mexico.