Old in it’s Ideal as Time Itself

I sit here alone not wanting to breath or move…forcing my brain to take one step forward at a time. My body and mind cry out for the comfort of my bed…to wrap myself in the  comfort of my quilt with a false sense that its the only thing that won’t leave me or maybe that’s not false- who can say? my spirit wants to cry out – no- scream out “why are these things happening to me!?” all every girl wants is to feel loved and appreciated. At last, reality comes crashing down that life is not the fairy tale that I grew up believing it was or would turn out to be instead it’s the complete opposite. Are we lost as humans ? Is being in love just over rated? why does my soul yearn for LOVE? I understand now that there no such thing as love. I’m forced to walk this world forever tortured knowing that my spirit – as old in it’s ideals as time itself- will never experience such a thing as love.

By Jomarie Hernandez©

Edit by Tiffany Denny



Unsettle Dreams

I toss and turn, one unsettling dream after another. Every time I wake up my body longs for you to the point I go back and have my unsettling dreams once more because I know that is where I will find you. Yes, I prefer my unsettled dreams than to be awake knowing you are not there. My body aches to be pressed against yours, my lips burn to feel yours on mine, and my body and soul yearn to become one with yours. Alas, we can never be together or experience one another and so I will go back to my nightmares and unsettled dreams and hopefully one of them, just one, will be sweet.

By Jomarie Hernandez©

Edit by Tiffany Denny


Until We Meet

My soul cries out for my other half. I carry your heart in my hands and you carry my heart in yours.  I walk around looking for the owner of this heart like the prince looking for girl who fits the glass shoe. So many years of waiting and still holding your heart, I’m starting to grow weary now and desperately placing your heart onto others pretending, no, hoping, that it fits. But in the end I know its not their heart I’m holding and the one they have is not mine. I sit here holding it, caressing it, until we find each other; Until you arrive your heart is placed where mine should be.

By Jomarie Hernandez©

Edit by Tiffany Denny


Drip Drop

The world smells fresh and new…let it rain. The sky turns grey but the day looks promising. As I lay here I can’t help but wish for a warm body  to lay next to me. Let it rain. Drip drop..that’s all I hear. I can’t resist the urge of wanting a pair of arms to hold me..to whisper something that makes me laugh…to chase away the dark clouds rolling by. Drip, drop. Your smell surrounds me leaving a sense of security that just overwhelms me. Drip, drop. But in a blink all that sensation is gone and all that I’m left with is loneliness… The smell of fresh flowers outside my window is reassurance that he’s coming soon.

By Jomarie Hernandez ©
Edit by Stephanie Taveras