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Silvana Ochoa

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

4 poems·Since October 2017
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My First Love

October 31, 2017

You have asked me to name my first love

When long ago I carved such thing deep above 

Above in the skies where I can see upong the daylight of each passing day

And still you claim this experience is of words to say

But I will anyway for I can't bear the idea of forgetting

The truth is my heart has been calling 

for me to write those feelings down

since some time has it begged for a sound

While you blame this thought a beginning

I also blame it an ending

His voice I am not allowed to hear 

His lips I will not feel yet do fear

His life in my right hand stood

But this hand had already fooled

Yet still I insisted in believing that before

Before anything failed that such happening could never occur

for so into ourselves we were that it all turned into a blur

a mist that has covered my eyes in fog

and his darling body in a clog

for the earth and life dared swallow

into a place where I am shallow

because more than a wall is in between

the lights can't cast even a beam

I am alive

While he says goodbye

that his time with me is a print on the earth

and this weight upon me is the wish of his rebirth

because I love you, 

I remember you,

I apsire to continue 

For your distant impossible future 

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