After The Fall

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

MOON

I smell pine when I think of you,
trees rustling in the woods,
and the sliver moon in the distance.
Tracing every line on your hand,
every freckle on your back,
the sky was writing our story.

For some reason you call me a bitch,
when a joint’s in your mouth,
you say you won’t turn into a drug addict,
as you puff your 18th hit.

This is a dying fleck of love,
about a drunken man, and a broken woman,
taking steps into the woods,
trying to remember the days,
when the moon was full.

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

MOM

Tie your shoe,
clean your room,
did you wash the dishes?
Don’t hit your brother;
be kind to your father.
Don’t say that word,
swears are bad.
Are you passing your classes?
Did you brush your teeth,
floss?
You’ve been watching tv for too long,
go outside!
I didn’t realize till I moved an hour away that,
you were really saying was “I love you.”

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

DNA

You are possessed with
your mother’s nose,
and your father’s dimples.
You are told,
to be the fragment of your grandfathers, wishes.
You are told,
to only be smiling,
happiness is the only emotion you can behold.

There’s more to me than my DNA,
and my skin and bones.
I dance in the mornings,
and like to drink tea.
I’d rather be with my friends,
than any rich or famous person in the world.
Sometimes I just laugh,
for no reason at all,
and fall in love with stranger’s eyes.

I’m more than these four walls,
and the streets at night,
and the vodka underneath my bed.
I’m more than my parent’s voices,
telling me where to go,
I’m more than the boy I loved,
and the cities I wished to live in.

I’m more than having my
father’s dimples,
and walking home at night,
I’m everything I’ve done, loved, thought,
and touched.
You’re more than the ground you walk on,
and the trees,
you are everything.

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

AFTER THE FALL

Don’t kiss someone,
with music in the background.
Cause in a couple months,
you’ll be at a coffee shop,
and the song will come on.
Strangers won’t understand,
your mom won’t know what to say.
One kiss wasn’t worth this,
or was it?

The taste of Caramel and bubble gum linger.
Let’s get high by the shore,
I know you want more
You could kill me with that look,
phrases you said filling my mind.

Don’t make love with music in the background,
cause in a couple months you’ll be at a club,
the song will come on,
the vodka and gin won’t understand,
and strangers in the bathroom won’t either.
Was it worth one kiss,
was it?

After the fall,
you’ll still have it all.
All faded photos in the car,
all my button down shirts.
All the times we ate burritos after getting high.
All the times we forgot,
that in a couple months this would all end.
It’s Getting Late
The limit is forty, you’re going 60,
your hair’s looking exactly like it did at fifteen,
and my minds forgetting it’s not the way it was.
Now we are nineteen,
driving too fast,
still complaining about this washed up town.
It’s getting late,
but I still have words to say,
you used to tell me every time I left you,
you missed me already.
One time you didn’t so I figured you were dead,
or you stopped loving me.
I guess I was right about the second one.

It’s getting late,
I have places to be,
people to meet.
But, I’d rather be here.

We passed the border,
but now you’re back on my shoulder.

It’s getting late,
but I still have words to say,
you used to tell me every time I left you,
you missed me already.
One time you didn’t so I figured you were dead,
or you stopped loving me.

I guess I was right about the second one. TC mark

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