Episode

It begins with a lump,
that I find hard to swallow.
Mimicked by the night sky,
the moon is looking hollow.
In search for a kind hand,
or a star I could follow.
Emerging from the past,
without a need to wallow.

The ground sinks like quick sand,
with each heavy step I take.
Nervous attempt to smile,
but come off awkward and fake.
Outside the ground is frozen,
inside my spirit bakes.
A wish covered in silence,
with no glass wounds to break.

My palms become the ocean,
my mouth dry desert land.
Quickest trembling rhythm,
possessing disarmed hands.
Anxiety soon arises,

choosing a firmer stand.
Confusing every thought,
obstructing any plan.

My eyes soon find a star,
I watch her as she twinkles.
I open my scared heart,
then ask her for a sprinkle.
A tidbit of bright light,
will iron out the wrinkles.
Conquering one more time,
this one was a mere tickle
.

– Grace Y. Estevez.








Contrary

The one meant to love me,
had hate for me too.
Swaying what I see,

controlling my views.

Have you ever heard words,
that felt like a punch?


The energy sprayed,
all covered with blades,

cutting through my heart,
splitting me apart,
shooting like a gun,
leaves me feeling stunned.


Bruise into my mind,

biting deep inside,
chewing at my pride
,
actions undefined,
a fingerless touch
,
delivers the punch.

Then hold me so sweet,
offer many treats,
sweep me off my feet,
I flow like the breeze
.

Have you ever heard words
meant to feel like love?


The words I now hear,
erase all my fears.

all sent from above,
fly in like a dove,
they flutter inside,
bring in butterflies.


They give me a hug,
that fits like a glove,
then sing in my ears,
my eyes fill with tears,
my hopes start to fly,
reaching past the sky.

I land on both feet,
words fall on their knees,
seeking no amends,
knowing this now ends
.

The knots all untie,
I say my good byes
.

– Grace Y. Estevez





Judgments

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy to see,
life can be care free.

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy to know,
this world is a show.

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy to fight,
what they fear inside.

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy for truth,
still expecting proof.

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy to find,
what ignites their mind.

People think I am crazy,
I think they are all lazy.
Too lazy to be,
anything like me.

– Grace Y. Estevez

Presence

Shadowed dancer
take me on a stroll,
take me to a place,
no one else can go.


Walk me through the walls
chase me up the stairs,
look inside my mind,
tell me I am there.


Expose the mystique
that life tries to hide,
sweep me off my feet,
as your light unblinds.


Share your tune with me
my rhythm is yours,
dance in harmony,
one heart beating pure.

– Grace Y. Estevez

Handful

The family unit, is a lot like a hand.
Silent oath to be true, can make all understand.
Each person unique, like prints on your fingers.
Bad times fade away, the love always lingers.


Beginning with the index, as wise as can be.
Points out every fear, makes every eye see.
Flaps quickly around, when not getting his way.
Forms a circle with thumb, when things are okay.

The thumb is quite special, stronger than the rest.
Assisting in gripping, to justify strength.
Comforts many infants, lays still in their mouth.
A spoonful of happy, removes any pout.

The pinky is youngest, the runt of the pups.
Helps gain full control, while holding a cup.
A gambler by nature, can take a quick bet.
Curling all around, till stakes are all set.

The middle is spunky, not easily controlled.
An established rebel, can stand all alone.
Offensive to many, yet funny to some.
Enjoys lots of music, can snap just for fun.

Responsible charmer, ring finger holds beauty.
Attracting attention, while wearing fine jewelry.
Respecting commitment, she gives it her all.
Honored with great gems, always standing tall.

United home front, twin flames can provide.
Caring for their kids, never picking sides.
Push negative out, positive takes a stand.
My palm the main unit, their home in my hand
.

– Grace Y. Estevez


.



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