Walls

Loving was not an option
Surviving was all I knew
Protecting and independence was the only way

The wall was up
It was strong
It was high
Unbreakable no one could crush

He walked in and made me laugh
Punching and kicking
He took it down
So strong he was

Piece by piece
A theft he was
He took my heart

Prying and poking
He discovered a part of me
He made me feel

When he was done
He picked it up and devoured it only to digest it

I let him in
I gave him power
I gave him love

Now don't get me wrong I'm glad I did

I learned to love
I learned to trust
I learned to feel

What I did not learn was how to let him go, how not to love him ?
How do I stop feeling?

Café con leche

I drink coffee in the morning and some days in the evenings. Other times I just drink coffee on the weekends. I love coffee. Sure, many people love coffee. I love it because its an experience every single time. I don't just drink it to keep me awake. I drink it because I enjoy the memory of my grandmother. Do not be confused, she is still living. The thing is she lives 3000 miles away. Every morning when I was a kid, my grandmother and I would wake up at 5am to have a sweet pastry and a cup of coffee (cafe con leche y pan dulce). My coffee consisted of mostly milk but I loved it. Then every evening at around 7 we would do the same, but instead we would watch soap operas. We would sit there in suspense, who would Jose fall in love with tonight? We would discuss and predict the new love triangle. See, coffee is a taste, a moment an experience. It was not just coffee, it was time with my grandmother. And everyday as I let my coffee sit there until its at a perfect temperature for me to drink, I think of her.