poetry by bella

Once a lover, Now my Past

2010-08-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

My trust, you went back on.

I let you in my world,

& gave you my all.

Just for you to let go,

& allow me to fall.

Time has pasted,

often, I remeber.

My days spent with you,

that was a bitter-sweeet,

September.

A single text,

Changed my life.

A simple "good-bye"

Set me free.

I was left to just be.

by: Annabella Medina

Sometimes

2010-02-09T05:04:00.000-08:00

Sometimes,
I want you to chase after me,
even when I push you away.
No matter how loud I yell,
I want you to stay.
But you just walk away.

Sometimes,
I forget about him
when i'm with you.
I don't care if i'll regret it later,
I want you now.
Even if I can't say how.

Sometimes,
its hard to forget
and easy to regret.
would forgetting
save me
from this pain?

Changes

2009-12-10T04:44:00.000-08:00

The world changes
Change happens daily.
Discoveries happen.
Wars happen.
People live.
People die.
Everything changes.

Kids grow.
Physically,
Mentally,
and Emotionally.
Kids become teens.
Teens become adults.
Everything changes.

Adults live.
They breathe,
Hurt,
Love,
and Care.
Adults die.
Everything changes.

rough draft

2009-12-10T04:39:00.000-08:00

my trust, you went back on.
my love, you should never accepted.
my heart, no longer in two.
I'm so much better off without you.

Suicide

2009-10-20T04:52:00.000-07:00

he knew that one day she'd fallow in her mothers foot steps.

she'd leave him in a tragic way.

why didn't he protect her?

all he did was cause her more pain.

deep down he knew the truth.

he knew his beating would lead her to this.

she was only two minutes late.

that didn't matter.

his angry fist painted shades of black and blue.

clumsiness hid the truth:

"I fell,"

she told all who asked.

only one way out:

now she understands where mommy went.

soon she would meet her again.

full bottle in hand.

letter in other.

minutes later, she takes her final breath.

empty bottle next to her beaten body.

letter gripped loosely in her hand.

she was free at last.

he was too late.

the opened letter in his angry hands read:

"You brought me to this, Dad."

tears poured out of his eyes.

he felt abandoned,

just like the last time.

by: Annabella Medina

I Am From My Family

2009-09-22T05:02:00.000-07:00

I am from the bike he taught me how to ride.

The shoes he showed me how to tie.

The moment we forced a goodbye.

I am from my brother.

I am from her mistakes that taught me whats right.

Her promise that helps me sleep at night.

Her blood that flows through my vains.

I am from my mother.

I am from the memories i have of calling him "coach".

Brookside, that day he walked away.

"Banana Splits", the group that helped me cope.

I am from my father.

I am from every christmas they became my roomates.

The birthday card they always sent.

The prayers we said together.

i am from my mimi and grandpa.

I am from the day they welcomed me in.

The support they never fail to give.

Grove Street, a place i will never forget.

I am from Therese and Ray.

By: Annabella Medina