Strand

There was no God
To be spoken to…

Broken

No miracle
No magic casted…

Broken

Just one strand
That one freaking strand
I hung to…

Clung

No matter how beaten…

Desperately

No matter how deep into soil…

Brazenly

Even when crumbled…

I clung

Clung to that
one shining strand…

And I

Depended of
That one and only…

Sanity

Today is a broken day…

Faith

Yet tomorrow will be
another page…

Yes

This one insignificant strand…

Sanity combined with faith.

Eli, Paco and Seb

Seb, my 3-year-old
was playing with his books
Not reading them
But throwing
Smashing things with them
I had to stop him.

I told him
Books are not balls
Books are not toys
They are a path
For you to walk on
To learn new things
To discover magic places
To reach the stars
Without wearing an astronaut suit.

To my surprise
Later that day
He made a path alright
With all his books!!
He had such an angelic smile
I couldn’t argue
I lost this one…

Sudden goodbye

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

I guess…
When it comes to the sudden goodbyes
It’s not the goodbye
but the regrets
That come along with it
And pierce my peaceful mind.

Like the dreams
That are forever gone
From the cub in transition.
Like the heroic moment
that stabs you from behind.
The life saved from the fallen
From the unwanted
from the feared
From the egoistic and uncivilized
Exchanged with the bullet taken
By your mind literally and consciously.

Like the understanding
Of people standing
Watching
Unmoving
Frozen in fear.
Yet why?
Why did you move?..
Why is it that the heroes
Always die?
Why is it that the brave
The caring
The explosive compassion
Is always extinguished first?

Chained in bed…
That is…
Another part of my regret.
Your last goodbye
A parade with a serenade.
People following
They sang along
They walked with you
And others were waiting ahead.
Some just watching
And not knowing
Others with a hand
In their heart
For bravery is in front
Passing in silence
With “Un día a la vez”
And us with a knot
In our throat.

This was the last goodbye…
Yet
I wasn’t there
That alone…

End of year 2020

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Waves of black feathers sea
Fuzzy lights on the street
Cold…
Humid and desertic
Nothing like past years
A few cars parked in restaurants
Too few for these holidays…
2020 is coming to its end
Vaccines are a trend
Starting today.

Will next year be ok?
Who knows…
Will the broken be complete again?
Can’t say…
Will the broken links be whole again?
Depends…
At very least I know for sure
This year was unexpected
It crawled under my skin
With terror
With uncertainty
My faith was shaken
Too many times
And I’m still standing
Still dreaming
Still hoping
I am still saying
Merry Christmas
And blessed New year
May God console your soul
And please stay strong.
Tomorrow will come
Tomorrow will be another day
Today will be left behind
To be displayed
In written memoirs
In history books
And above all in stories
To be told…

Forbidden Path

A Forbidden path
She took in her past

A drunken dog
Is barking at her door
After not finding the keyhole
Howling
came from the freaking wolf.

Pity
the neighbors felt
After a few months of separation
An empty house
Is now making noise
He is now outside his home
While the girl
Doesn’t open her door

But they don’t know
Today was a day of reconciliation
He is celebrating, I suppose…

But not for her
Today was the first day
Of their last chance.

Today marked their reunion
Today was a new beginning
Forgetting his past adventures
His grotesque words
Even his lack of responsibility.

She tried not to step
On the forbidden path.
She did her best
To be against all odds.

Her aunts, her friends
They all were against divorce.
That forbidden path
Too uncanny for this girl.

She’s portrayed as cold blooded
With almost no loving.
House wrecker
And soul sucking…

As for her
A darken veil of hypocrisy
Is all she sees
Hatred for the adventurer
Disappointment from the sweet talker.

Divroce is all she thinks
Forbiden path it appears
She doesn’t care
Loosing all kinds of friends
Freedom is what she seeks
Peace away from that mess.

She opens that door
While carrying her son
With a suitcase on her back
Today was the last chance
This is goodbye
Carry on forbidden path.

THE SAME, YET NOT REALLY

By Rosalva Ruiz

There is nothing worse than drowning oneself in agony and despair.  Just like a painting that seems exquisite to viewers; to the artist, each stroke comes with exploding emotions that either elevate your soul or bring you down to the depths of hell. The latter happened to me, to the point of almost no return. I didn’t even realize what I was doing tormenting myself with the way I felt and lived, until my 4th child arrived.  It was thanks to my sister-in-law that I met wonderful people who taught me how to love, express myself and say no when needed.

At first, I was skeptical with going somewhere without knowing what to expect; however, once I was there, my life changed. Without being afraid of being dejected, I finally spoke my wants and needs. A world full of possibilities was waiting for me and not just hopelessly await for the end of the day.  I finally understood that my past was getting the best of me, thus leaving me suffering with every step I took.

Of course, this doesn’t mean I don’t get depressed now, or that I don’t get anxious when I’m around people (which is kind of ironical since I’m a social event photographer). Anyways, I’m just saying that now I understand myself better and embrace my sad moments converting them in another stepping stone to keep on walking with my head held high. Not because of pride, but because that is also a part of myself.

Also, my life has been full of wonderful things that I didn’t pay attention to before since I was too engrossed with other aspects of my life.  Thanks to these encounters, I realized that through writing I could express myself better than in person. Thus I started writing almost a year ago.  Even though it’s still lacking in many ways, this is a path I have chosen.

I haven’t changed that much, at least that’s what I think; then again, I know that I am not the same as I once was.

*Hi, everybody, God bless. Once again, this is my story for the anecdote day of Mcallen Public Library. If anybody is interested here is the link:

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