In these walls something talks to me,
whispering untold stories of the North,
urging me to trace the universe and bring it forth,
so that I may fill the page with the hues of my soul.
I feel whole, as these beings speak to me in riddles,
inquiries I decipher easily, and express through words.
They lift me on their wings, transform heart to bird,
and make me a god over my own world.
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It's Jeannine--that girl sitting next to you in Visual Arts. So there I was, searching Facebook for you like you said, and oh, what is this? Only every man in the world has your name...so I was tempted to wait until Tuesday to talk to you. And then I get an idea-- I search you on Google in the hopes of finding some route to Facebook, and I see this blog instead.
ReplyDeleteIn case the compliment is overdue: you are an incredible writer, Rafael. And this paragraph, unlike the above, is serious. I came from a school full of bulky boys with footballs and girls who spent lunch periods discussing which pair of shoes to wear for "Friday's party." I have yet to see such moving poetry from a person in my age group, and I thank you so much for this. Really, I was having such a boring day until I happened across this. We haven't had the chance to hang out yet, but I truly feel we should soon; I think we would get along very nicely.