Tú Me Acostumbraste



6 Days

5 Days

4 Days

3 Days

2 Days

1 Days

The Beginning Of The End

Straw Poll

Over – Version One

Over – Version Two

Tú Me Acostumbraste


6 Days

I don’t think I’m angry,


I don’t know what this feeling is.

This gnawing knot,

somewhere deep within me,

that I can’t see,

so I won’t acknowledge.

A detached ache,

when my mind lights up,


your colour,

in so many ways,

ransacked from the rainbow.

I don’t think I’m angry anymore.

I don’t know if I should have been,

but you told me once,

that you thought I was the jealous type,

and I typed so many heartfelt, hurt goodbyes,

that I think you must be right.

Blinded by tears,


and mint coloured madness,

I cursed a continued stream of avatars,

that didn’t belong to me,

because you belong to me,


they didn’t deserve damnation,


and devastation,

but I can’t negotiate with my heart,

when she is stormy and stubborn.

As you remarked,

I am an envious empress,

but only because you asked me to be.


5 Days

Last night,

I wondered what would happen,

if I never saw you again.

I thought about the bakery you said we would visit.

I tried to imagine the taste of fresh bread,

so I could be less bleak,

but bread made me think of your mouth,

and how gently you kiss,

when you have just awoken,

thinking of breakfast,

maybe toast,

maybe cereal,

maybe just bread.

You kiss me,

for a moment,

and I think of nothing,

but how I adore you.

I try to imagine the taste of fresh bread,

so I could be less bleak,

but bread made me think of your car,

and how we covered it in crumbs and scars,

how I felt brave,

kissing you,

abandoning drinks,

abandoning sense,

how I just wanted to kiss you,

until you possessed me,

like a demon.

I felt my rosary running from the curse I had become,

succumbing to sensation,

amorous ambition.

Last night,

I wondered what would happen,

if I saw you again.

I thought about the bakery you said we would visit.

I tried to find a way to tell you,

that we have plans,

and I won’t let you disappoint my diary.


4 Days

Good morning.

There’s nothing good about it,

but it’s social convention,

to be polite and follow all the rules.

I smile,

this morning,

just because you said you like it when I do.

Bound to be beholden,

binding myself in bubblegum knots,

water boarded by the tears of my temper tantrums,

I say “Good morning”

but it feels bad,



3 Days

I dreamed of you last night.

Diamond ring.

Rose quartz rhetoric.

Someone said that you were sad inside,

and I didn’t understand,

because my heart is at home,

on my sleeve,

on my cheek,

on my lips.

The waking world was waiting,

but I wasn’t in a hurry,

watching your nervous negotiation,

with the future,

and the past.

Someone said that I could have anyone,

and I wrote your name,

on their misty,

rose tinted glasses.

You were before me,

holding tomorrow in your trembling fingertips,

I was inconsolable,

my mind readers,

mapped out all around me,

muttering the same sentence,

but I still pretended I didn’t know what to say.

I wrote down my name in full,

sticking yours to the end,

in hope and glitter glue,

leaving you down on the floor,

where I didn’t have to look at you.

I have been anxious,


so sure,

so impatient,

so many different states,

since we last dreamed together,

and I dream of you,

every night,

so you can imagine how chaotic,

my waking hours are.


2 Days

Thirty four times,

I’ve been tortured,

Stockholm syndrome,

grateful Gitmo girl,

taping up my sanity,

until the twenty fifth,

when I say to myself,

“Surely, today.”

Appropriate amnesia,

I forget,

under the new moon,

the promises we made,

maybe they’re just things that people say,

when they’re infatuated.

Once upon a time,

you told me,

I’d never be alone again,

and I can’t say that you lied,

because I never let you go.

I never let you go,

I never let myself leave,

I never let myself believe that endings exist.


1 Day

Maybe I hold onto you,

long after you’ve left,

so that I’ll always feel you’re mine,

never having to accept that I’ll lose you again.

It’s easier to ignore the reality,

of life and it’s sickening cruelty,

if I just close my eyes,

hearing my inner monologue in your voice,

kinder tones,

kinder times,

no suitcase in the hallway,

just two pairs of shoes,

that know,

deep in their soles,

that they are soulmates.

There are knocks on my door,

a frightening thunder,

that gets closer,

the further you get,

I barricade,

with each thing that you said,

because though I could let them in,

and be loved,

at long last,

they would never be you.


The Beginning Of The End

I haven’t slept.

I spent the night,

at the mercy of memories,

how my miserable mind contorts them.

I am comforted,

by the old,

“No news is good news”.

Carrying my anxiety,

to my altar,

empowered by exhausted,

I kneel before the rising sun,

as if you are at its core,

my tears are on full display,




There are some moments,

where I’m so sure,

where I’m going,

until I am undone,

unwelcome by my own mind.

It has been six days,

since the last time I started counting,

spades are singular,

by the front door.

Am I digging?

Am I planting?


Straw Poll

Is fate kind?

Is my life decided?

Am I helpless?

Hoping for the best,

but just a person that life happens to?

You decide.

They decide.

Life decides.

I just wait.


Over – Version One

I am free, at last,

but I’ve never felt so trapped.

Capture me again.

Capture me again,

my helpless cry, pathetic,

but it’s all I know.

All I know is us.

Waist deep in regret and dirt.

My mud stained heart, bleeds.


Over – Version Two

I am free, at last,

populating the planet,

with joy that I share.

I cover the fields,

with seven precious letters.

I am yours again.

I am yours again.

Breathing in, air fresh, seeds bloom.

My mud stained hands, glow.


Tú Me Acostumbraste

All that remains,

is a montage in my mind,

a little cry of “after all, it didn’t mean much at all”.

It did,

to me.

All that remains,

is a recurring dream,

that is so sweet,

so cruel,

that it becomes a nightmare.

Sad sting,

in the corner of my eyes.

How they flow,

when the time is right,

when it’s wrong too,

all through the night,

just in time,

to catch me creeping home,

sold out by the stars.

Throwing the memory of you,

in a bottle,

against the back door,

watching the glass reform,

on the kitchen floor,

spelling your name,


settling around an island,

of the things I’d still say,

if I weren’t so afraid you’d reply with


“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

I glitter, beside the glass,

bewitched by the moon,

the misleading mood,

a perverse kind of peace,

when the earth is finally still,

everything is destroyed,

but I can sit in silence,

and say those things,

without a reply.

I walked out of my mind,

because I didn’t want it anymore.

You ruined it.


© Jennifer Juan 2020