bradley afroilan
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The Last Semester


turquoise and orange
splatter around white work station
my hair still drips from it drinking water an hour ago
my body sinks into padded chair
anxious fingers knock letters floating on phone’s face
they long to vocalize my wavering heart

2 weeks earlier
my rational mind’s mouth declares
no contact
my cracking heart sulks in stiff chair of ribs
brooding like stew in a pressure cooker
trying to understand
my pilipina peach
soft on the lips
but if i bite
you crunch back
black eyes shouting
black sundress pushing aside wind’s flowing body
words punching like fist with metal wrapping bone digits

but you let me into your botanical garden
allow me to water for first time
particular flower
unknown species to me
2 weeks arrive like a package
travelling by ship in modern day
as fingers attempt
punching of codes of letters
to access anything from you
my lips press tight like a bag holding a body
my heart holds its breath
my hair still weeps from water it drinks earlier
foreshadowing my emotions now
but as i reflect now
still nothing wet ever crawls
from containers holding vision poking out my head

when my fingers finish punching in algorithms
three grey circles
form bubble and respond

”please stop sending me cryptic texts-
i don’t have the time nor energy”
when my eyes drags on
prickly word “cryptic”
my eyes yell
send electronic waves
to every receptive bone floating in skin casing

my dry heart starves for 2 weeks before
begging for anything to nourish it
anything to understand
why after 30 times sun and moon change places in sky
your eyes tire of my name
forming a bubble of words on your phone’s face
within life span of a fly

fingers fumble over each other
try to find any correct code
but you go on auto-lock
none of my codes work anymore

a large hole tears in my body
i stagger home
calm appearance but
heart breathing heavy
my fingers fidget to dial voices of friends
any support system
but none respond

my collapsing chest grasps my wobbling knees
my body bends to ground
a hideous cry creeps from my internal gutter

behind closed door, no one hearing
bony arms hugging self, but no comfort comes
heart punching anything to not feel suffering

more messy movement moves inside me
than the day
long black car
transporting mommy inside brown box with gold angels
like a UPS package
to permanent house of “eyes shut forever” people

cold and shaking takes your warm solid place in bed
where we watch drawn characters adventure
on digital screen
our favorite act together, but no more
but i learn this act starts towards my own self-care

i missed yesterday. but i had a poem and the poem is here.  i've made a bunch of these over these past few months so i always have something that i've made to post. i just forget sometimes.

the film is coming soon too or at least the documentary. my thesis is approaching a more finished state. but i just remembered that i need to do a powerpoint presentation for my thesis haha. 

we'll see what happens this weekend. tomorrow is also my internship interview at the Intersection in SF. i'm excited!

Bradley Afroilan