73 Years Old

A coffin doesn’t scream as loud when you allow the ears of your soul to block out the noise

Peace strengthens a lost child of 73 years old

One who still yearns for her mother

A mother she loved

Yet she never told

A 73 year-old daughter cries at night when no one else sees

Recipes she cooks – only to feel closer

Her mother

Death she suffered by a careless hand

Breathe free beautiful one

The Son who loves

He forgives

Leaving nothing else for you to dig

Written By
Elizabeth Mendiola
Copyright 2017

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Wicked Bliss

(Photo credit: http://www.newgrounds.com)

A ruined view is the best lens to peek through
Especially on a bad day such as this
Sometimes you can see the others staring right back
Whispering
Truths about you

And the thought alone scares you into a room
A room which hoards every poor and enchanted memory you ever built

White space is threatening – the walls are covered with it
Feeding your tasteless soul all of the scattered leftovers someone left behind
Wiping your mouth
You turn to see what you have been looking for but could never find
Disappointment at its greatest peak

This mountain you will not climb
The work is far too trivial
Trifling enough for a mastermind like you
Laboring to forget and closing the door
Discovering each one has a repetitious knob
One you can never lock

By Elizabeth Mendiola
Copyright 2013

Swirl

The flowers you sent me are now gone
Without ever seeing you, I feel you so near
A part of my heart remains with you
Wherever you are – I am there
Please, bring me with you, feel my love swirling madly inside for you

Remember our touchless thoughts
A streaming language of love
Days and nights
Where our words gathered together
Creating the most infinite love man could ever imagine

By Elizabeth Mendiola
Copyright 2013