my eternal muse
the heat of your body
is my oxygen

my forever muse
your eyes are
my kaleidoscope
of this earth

my blue muse
the curve of your mouth
the slant of your nose
my hand in yours
yin and yang

My skin is just a tender cloak
I can take it off and hang it up
The moment I step into our sacred space
Our bed is my church and sanctuary
Love is such a stale and weightless word
For the volcano that exists in the core of me
And bleeds and sighs and creates for you
Over and over, without a single thought
Just heat, intensity, a field of wildflowers
It is there we lay, barely existing
Passionately devoid of a care
Because our adoration is the temple
where we praise of destiny

sometimes i am just a slow tumbling weed
coasting over all the greenery and fauna
arriving to the coveted place, no one goes
it is just a reoccurring dream, a fantasy
where you reach that precipice, above it all
bird's eye view of tiny heads and concepts
you see your own soul, dancing
the casket of your body in ashes

I'm no longer even aware
You are the constant stream
Of my lovesick subconscious
I can still smell and taste everything
I've never truly missed until
8 days without you.

I will never say no to you

Because I will never forget 

How it felt the first time

We created that cosmic energy

That only exists when we touch

You can let your lips graze others

But nothing will bring that drunk haze

We were sober, but completely lit

My tongue and yours and I'm not sure when I began 

My hand down your pants and my hips that fit right into you 

And you love me as hard outside as you do in

That can all happen with anyone 

But nothing will set our souls on fire

Quite the same way as us naked and tangled and insatiable 

I will not let go of the space that we can never create

Our dimension exists no matter where I go, no matter how hard you try

My magnet man will always make this sun rise.

A study [of metaphysical concepts.]

essay oringally published on this blog 6 years ago.
valeria velasquez.
22 years old, philosophy major.
san francisco, ca.

A study [of metaphysical concepts.]

There are moments in life when I have looked around, and there always seemed to be someone next to me. And then ahead and behind, I could see people standing as well. As time passes and I grow, these persons seem to become smaller. The center of human reality, the ego, is always present. And when one of those rare, yet staggering, moments of weakness crept in, I looked around and hoped to find a body that could hold me up. The real test, I have discovered, is when there is nothing but too much empty space. Looking around is fruitless because the only one who can push me forward is myself and then I must rely only on inner strength and any sense of ferocity that once was.

Truly being alone is the most strengthening experience, in the metaphysical sense, that one can endure. Complete loneliness can be absolutely uncomfortable, because in this state everything is illuminated and this stark light is not always flattering. Without the luxury of company and the crutch of stale conversation, you are forced to hear buried thoughts and confront the unfortunate aspects of current existence. There are several stages that must be exhausted in order to reach the true height of self-realization. The first step is the hardest, and the longest. This first step, a sort of depression, is the most critical and also the one that will yield the strength that is necessary during this journey.

The depression can vary in degree and length of time. It stems from a great feeling of inadequacy and the complete dissipation of the blissful sense of wellbeing that comes from ignorance. The key is staying afloat during this period and keeping the eyes open to begin to absorb some of the discovery that will begin to unfold. Several aspects of this discovery may cause grief, but others will bring a true sense of gratitude. Soon, the conscience will begin to separate the good from the bad. At this juncture, the depression will cease and the self will begin to strengthen.

The “bad” list will be analyzed but from a sort of objective distance, and one by one these situations will be re-assessed or erased altogether. The “good” list in the conscience will be the strongest and will also become the center of a newfound reality. This center will begin to govern the decisions the subconscious makes. Several of these items will become more profound and all of one’s devotion will be invested in the parts of biggest importance. There are three keys aspects at the top of the list: The Self, The Endeavors of the Self, and Family/True Friendships.

Even when self-realization has been met, it is not static. The three main categories of existence will be constantly changing and evolving. The constant growth of such things is the only way that they will flourish and make at least the smallest of positive contributions to our human progress. Above all, the self will gain the most valuable and altering of all realizations: Each and every sentient being exists in a selfish and private universe. We must rely on ourselves and stand firmly on our own perseverance in order to truly be and not only breathe for the sake of doing so. Those who are lucky enough to achieve this are the most misunderstood, the most questioned, the most free.

house of cards.

I don't wanna be your friend
I just wanna be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts

Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine

And fall off the table, get swept under

Denial, denial

The infrastructure will collapse
Voltage spikes
Throw your keys in the bowl
Kiss your husband goodnight

Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine

Fall off the table, get swept under

Denial, denial
Denial, denial

Your ears should be burning
Denial, denial
Your ears should be burning

please save me,
from the walking dead girl.

i look for you in everything
songs, words, the night, whiskey
i claw through every realm just
so i can feel you again, smell you
nothing in me has forgotten
you are my lucid dream
the angel that always held my hand

in your possession is my
tempered and endless soul
the deep ocean of my human self
in its place are the ashes of
our love and devotion
the undertaker, the tiny Phoenix

the only clarity are the tears
i let myself weep, i mourn
for you, for my magnet that
is walking around being the other half
of everything i am.

i knew i was dying
my eyes were closed and
i could feel the biggest smile
coming over my gray and empty
face.

every inch of my body
was erupting with waves of
euphoria and overwhelming
joy.

nothing hurt, the pain was indicating
that i was leaving this place
forever. to my own personal nirvana
my own dream state.

alone and dead but happy.
death felt better than breathing.
i was dead and finally
alive.

no one has ever asked me for my words
only my company, my body, my face
only you. only you wanted everything.

how many words does it take to say we are fucked?
an eternity in 210 days. but then
each day it lives inside of me, so confused
this dismal and tainted love still thinks
it is alive and well and breathing
sucking everything out of me because
it relentlessly exists.

all mine.

my ribs are aching from the weight of
this bloody pulp, this massacre
it used to be my heart, now desecrated

i smile only because
how can one live with
this dark pit? falling and falling
into a space of nothingness
in every direction but still
i get up and pretend to be human
you fake it long enough that
you forget if there is any difference
between the skeleton and the flesh.

i envy everything that is touching you right now.

how many lives have i loved you?
i feel myself plunging into miles of
black sea, searching, to peel away this layer
this lifetime where you did not come first
you came after to remind me that
our souls never forget, they exist even
when we are dead and waiting to
come back as tulips or a moth
and like you always have, again and again
you will find me, in every form, every existence
you will find me just to remind me
that we persevere through the pain of goodbye
until we come back once more
as humans or goats or fog or fire