Revenge

My first act of revenge

was not spiked filled words

Not wilted roses blooming in

dark rooms

Not a deer in the headlights

Not the excess of people

watching a line go up

It has been water etching sand

A heart that is in pieces

is a rabid dog foaming at

the mouth

This has been slow

like adding lanes to highways

that loving more is the only way

Revenge is not best served cold

It is slow cooked

pork meat in red sauce with cactus

Your nibbling

standing up for themselves

at an age you do not have memories of

It is sitting down and reading

and writing

and learning how to make a decent cup of coffee

and taking photos with a camera

It is warm

like the days you spent looking

at the ocean

It is molten lava meeting the sea

A small fire raging in my heart

A sweet latte

bell hooks

tears

it is so many tears

It is no longer hungry

ravaging your brain

gnawing teeth de-fanged

It is

a ripe pomegranate

what patterns do I fall in?

where do I want to live?

do I need therapy?

tears

it is so many tears

it is a plate of revolcadas

the fall of capitalism

why does ai suck so bad?

It is how you are gay

that you love video games

maybe banda music is not all bad

that it is all tragic until it is not

My first act of revenge was

against myself

against all odds