• Poetry

    Self-Portrait at Twenty-two

    28 February 2018

    I.

    A reflection

    Of a forlorn face

    In the grimy window

    Of the bus as it creaks along.

    I try my hardest to look beyond it

    To look at the landscape as we drive along

    But the grimy windows don’t seem to permit it.

     

    II.

    The white smoke escapes my lips

    While black tar enters my lungs

    I sigh, in bliss

    My head buzzing and ears ringing

    Enjoying the silence from the cold evening

    The stillness

     

    Later, I reenter the party

    Mingle and mix with everybody

    And smile because for this one night,

    I’m not lonely

     

    Even later, there are

    Dark bedrooms and

    Faceless bodies with

    Forgettable names but

    Regrettable moments

     

    III.

    An accident.

    Blood…

    Broken bones…

    Barely breathing…

    The absence of a heartbeat.

     

    IV.

    Relief.

    In the form of a woman

    Caramel skin and dark,

    Almond-shaped eyes

    A soft smile when her lips say my name

     

    V.

    The golden sunlight-

    An unwelcome guest

    Shines through the cracks

    Of the closed blinds

    Seeping through the thin skin

    Of my eyelids

    Making itself known

     

    The sunlight illuminates the caramel skin

    Of the woman wrapped in the sheets

    Entangled in my limbs

    Breathing soundly

     

    Eventually, I succumb to its insistence

    That I arise

    I disentangle my limbs and

    I welcome the sun

    To this new day

    Stretching my arms over my body

    In salutation

    Then folding over my feet

    Bowing in respect

    And appreciation

    To be alive

     

    © 2018 Vic Romero

    All rights reserved.

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  • Poetry,  Speaking My Mind

    Quitting Smoking

    10 October 2016

    Maybe we caught fire too soon

    Blazed too bright

    Burned too quickly

    To realize-

    We were too hot to last.

    We burned ourselves out,

    As fast as we ignited

     

    You used to make me so excited.

    My love for you brightened my mood

    Until you sucked out all my oxygen,

    Leaving me gasping for breath.

    I have nothing left to give

     

    At some point, you left me alone

    In the dark

    Fingers singed from holding onto our fire

    For far too long

    Because I was hoping you would return

    To reignite our spark

     

    But not anymore.

    I’m walking out of this smoky,

    Ashy room

    And slamming shut the door

    Behind me.

     

    Time for fresh air.

     

    © 2016 Vic Romero

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  • Speaking My Mind

    The Morning Before

    01 August 2016

    I don’t feel well…I’m so anxious and high-strung about this surgery in a couple of hours. I’ve been like this all day…I stayed up until 4:30am then slept in until 11:30am. I lounged in my pajamas all day, sitting in the same spot for twelve hours trying to focus long enough to do homework but failing miserably. I stink, my mom has been coddling me more than she usually does…everybody has been extra nice and it’s weird. Any little thing will piss me off right now…and I got into a fight with my mom earlier about doctors and my surgery. 

    I feel so inadequate…I kinda fucked up. I don’t tell my mom anything and she’s mad because she thinks I should’ve detailed her my doctor’s appointments to have possibly avoided this melanoma scare. I am pissed for being made to feel inadequate and I’m pissed because she’s partly right. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I can’t focus on anything..I got maybe an hour of homework done today despite having sat with it in front of me for twelve fucking hours. My irresponsibility when it comes to both my health and my academics is just making me…want to disappear into the night. How nice would it be to run off somewhere right now? But running away doesn’t erase any problems…it would make things more complicated. 

    God, I want a cigarette. And drugs. Anything would be nice right now…anything that would make this morning zip by and that would fuck with my consciousness. Because I feel terrible. Maybe I feel a little better than when I first started this post, but I still feel like my insides are twisting and choking me from the inside. 

    -Vic

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  • Speaking My Mind

    Late Night or Early Morning

    31 July 2016

    It’s past 4am as I write this. I’m a little delirious but I’m okay with it…I haven’t been this weird mix of sad and exhausted in several years. 

    I’ve been partly too busy to write and partly not having anything to write about..those are the lies I’ve been telling myself. The reality is, at twenty years old, I have finally found some solid friends to confide in and I therefore haven’t truly needed to write to express myself because I’m able to do that with my friends. And yeah, my life has been mundane lately too..maybe if I had some drama going on, I would feel more inspired to be creative and to write more in general. But I don’t need to have drama going on to write..I need to realize this. There have been tons of things going on in the different realms of my life…my jobs, school, family, friends..my health, my fears and fantasies…hell, dating!! I’ve been talking about all of these issues with my friends, but I haven’t been writing them down. And I should! I shall! 

    So…first aspects of my life I want to talk about. My health and…maybe I’ll touch upon my fears and fantasies because some of them relate to my health. 

    I’m having surgery done on Monday for what is probably not melanoma but isn’t a normal birthmark…it’s on my foot so I won’t be able to walk too well for a couple of days..hopefully not more than a week. 

    I went to my annual dermatologist checkup and I fucking hated that office. It took me two weeks to make the appointment in the first place because the secretary never answered the phone and they never called me back, although I left voicemails. My mom thought the office closed down! Eventually I got ahold of the office and I made an appointment for two months later, because that was all they had. My appointment was a couple of days ago and..everybody at the office is unfriendly. They’re unfriendly and fucking robots because they’re not humorous. It’s horrible. 

    But basically, the doctor (who I used to think was super attractive but now I dislike her too much) was like “you should have that removed” and then I ran out of there and drove home full of anxiety, fear, and tons of tears. I called my mom and later got into a stupid fight with her because I was being irrational and emotional. 

    The next day, my mom took me to get a second opinion and I cried again there. And then skin cells were scraped off my body and my mom made me an appointment to have the surgery. 

    It’s fabulous because I’m in school now and I’m working…getting around requires tons of walking because I’m in an urban environment. Now my mom is taking off of work in preparation to be my chauffeur. It’s going to be rough. 

    Aside from that…July 4th I made the drunken mistake of buying a pack of cigarettes and ever since…I’m trying not to be addicted. I smoked maybe…three of the first pack and then broke the rest but then…

    I’m a very anxious person and the other day when I was walking to class from my apartment, I was incredibly anxious. I walk with my hands balled in fists in preparation to pop anyone in the jaw or head or wherever I can reach!! People try to talk to me when I walk down the street, I don’t like it. They loiter and they look at me and sometimes they catcall at me and..so I get anxious. Then there was a guy I thought was walking too slowly so I got nervous and plus, it was rush hour so I was horrified crossing the street. But not horrified enough to go to the convenient store and buy a ridiculously expensive second pack of cigarettes. All I could think about was smoking one to calm me down…if I didn’t have this stupid credit card (I got a credit card in May for my trip) I wouldn’t have been able to entertain lethal, expensive, nasty habits. I would’ve only been able to consider trying yoga or something free and healthy! 

    I need to quit this..mild addiction but addiction nonetheless. If I’m terrified to have an outpatient surgery, why would I pick up a terrible habit that would most definitely result in me having an inpatient surgery, if I’m lucky enough to live. 

    I haven’t been the smartest lately…maybe part of the reason is that, aside from stress and anxiety, I’ve been extremely bored. And I’m alone most of the week when I’m at school. I am totally embodying a spoiled brat attitude right now, and I hate myself for it but it’s at least partly true. 

    Anyway, I’ll leave this post as it is since it’s long enough. 

    -Vic

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  • Short Stories,  Speaking My Mind

    Greyness

    28 April 2016

    Of course, he had decided to take the highway.  There was no traffic on the highway, so there was no stopping.  He must’ve known that if there was an opportunity to jump out of the car, I would’ve taken it.

    I slumped down further in the passenger seat, my arms crossed over my body protectively as his words sliced through my skin.  He said we were having this conversation because he loves me, but I wasn’t feeling loved at all.  It wasn’t even a conversation; it was a lecture.  A lecture about me.  About what’s wrong with me.

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  • Short Stories,  Speaking My Mind

    Let’s Make This Night Last Forever

    22 January 2014

    She picked me up five minutes to six.  She drives a little silver car…a Dodge I think.

    Upon opening the passenger side door, the stench of air freshener, cigarettes, and perfume wafted up my nose.  I breathed the smell of her in and bid her ‘hello’.

    She was wearing a long-sleeved, blue and grey striped shirt and dark blue jeans.  Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, as always.  She looked really good.

    Then she pulled out of my driveway and headed toward our First Date destination: The Olive Garden. My family thought that I was going to the mall.

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