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Biscayne and 86th

There's a little spanish super market
On Biscayne and 86th
and on any given morning
you would find a little girl holding her daddy's hand
watching mommy pick out vegetables

A few streets away from
Biscayne and 86th
In a little apartment
what now is a vacant lot
They lived
And at night
She sat on the floor of their room
Singing along to Queen

Ridiculousy hopeful
Abnoxiously happy
Ignorantly bissfull

She knew
Deep down inside, as some people
Just Know
She was meant for tragedies
Her tears would burn for sorrow
Her eyes would hold such stories
that are never to be retold

She knew
I knew
These lives were meant for tragedies

she later learned an important lesson
that its best to live passionately
to feel whole heartedly
and to fall tragically in love
than not at all

But on Biscayne and 86th
She's still that little girl in the super market
and on her parents floor
she sings along to Queen

-lola besott

amor de calaveras

in life we are granted a few simple pleasures

and the best ones are never easy to attain

they come in various forms

the most elusive of them all is

each other

we hold on by the tips of our fingers

to our lovers, companions, compadres, mothers,

fathers, brothers at arms...

it is a difficult task to endure

but it is one we take on without any hesitation

there is pleasure from the pain that comes

from loving each other

and a pain that comes from holding on too tightly

in dreams we are frightened by the reality we refuse to accept

if it is so difficult to hold on to the smallest of loves in life

how or what do we hold on to when their life ends

there is an obsession we have with

calaveras, esqueletos, y cosas de muertos

hay una obsesión que tenemos con

skulls, skeletons, and things to do with death

we dig into their flesh

til our nails fall off

til theres no more blood to be bled

til our fingerprints become freckles

on their skin

it is a love of death in life

and a life of love in death

our obsession becomes a comfort

and a small way to pay homage

to love lost

in life or death

its un amor de calaveras

a love of skulls

-lola besott

girl/boy

write a song about me
tell of a story that has
no ending
no beginning
write me a song
and
ill write you a novel
of a boy who was loved by a girl
but he couldnt see what was there
ill tell you how she suffered
how she cried
and bled
all for him
and how he'll never know
Write me a song and ill write you a poem
about a woman who forgot about the boy
who one day became a man
and how that man forgot about the girl
but thought of the woman
how years passed and both
without either knowing
thought about each other
and what could have happened
if things were different
If maybe in another world
there was another you _ another me
but it doesnt matter for this is not of us
Write me a song and in return ill sing you a song
about how one day this girl met a boy
and thought life would never be the same
and how he was right
and maybe at the end of the song
we'll finally realize
that girl was me
and that boy was you

-lola besott

Absolution

I know this boy
who likes to play with me
but never stays with me

This boy he likes to sleep with me
begs to be with me

He doesn't tell anyone
what he has
it's just something he likes to give

He closes the door
over and over again
sometimes it's me and sometimes it's him

He's to afraid to admit defeat
to a life he thought he wanted

&

when i leave
He gets down on his knees
puts his face to the floor
and starts to pray
for an absolution that will never come

I know a girl
who likes to walk along the edge
says she waiting for her big break
says she's the best they've ever seen

and in the back
she shoots up to numb the pain
of a world she hates

she hides it well
for no one see's the decay in her eyes
nor the scars on her arms

Sometimes she sleeps at the house on the corner
or in an alley behind a church
selling herself to a man
who says he can get her to heaven

All she wants is an end
&
She hopes all the drugs, cuts, & the man
will someday do the job

she closes her eyes and prays for an absolution that will never come.

-lola besott

dead heart beats

there's always a million and one thoughts
running at high speed
trying to form itself
into words
that you'd understand

I try and imagine
your facial expressions
as I tell you
what i tell you
but my dreams
won't satisfy
my hunger
for that perfect
happy ending

not an ending
but the beginning to the beginning
the prologue

Sit and patiently wait
to hear it
I already know
how it ends

I skipped to the back
where i saw

that in your hands
lay a poor thing
and you could faintly hear its

dead heart beat

although theres so much to say
it's all been said before
it's all been felt before
but truth be told
for you
someone else says it better
someone else feels it better
and it's
not me
not me
all I have to give are
dead heart beats

the lost echoes of our once
promised love

-lola besott

u-turns

Driving home
Book on the road
U-turn made
picked up
and continued on
Opened the book
Read the story
about a boy
who was lost
and confuesd
didnt know
which way to go
Ran away
to end up back
where he started
in the arms
of a lover
who was
already dead inside
& had thought
this is it
She made a
U turn
and found a book


-lola besott

THE SIMPLICITY OF THE EQUATION

How does one mend a broken heart? They say love can heal a broken heart and stop the soul from crying.
Now if this love is so powerful, it seems that way to me,
wouldn't it be a great commodity.

If this love which people speak of
turns a fool into a wise man,
a weeping woman into a lover
then shouldn't someone bottle it up and sell it by the liter.

Yes ladies and gentlemen gather around gather around. No more long faces, no more lonely nights! See this right here what i hold in my hands why this is the things in which dreams are made of. That man you want doesnt think your pretty, that woman you desire has another man well now here is your answer... See this liquid in this beautiful glass bottle
Of course you cant its invisible! but trust me
Ladies and gentlemen when i tell you
All your dreams and wishes of a true love will come true when you drink this stuff right here
All your crying and heart ache will cease to exist.

Act now and get the first sample for only $9.99!

- lola besott

fingerprints

there are instances in ones life

where certain events and people make us

truly happy

we experience pure ecstasy

with just the simplest gesture

a glance, a slight brush of the skin, a kind word

our souls glide on this innocent wave of joy

and although it may not last forever

in these small frames of life

we are happy

each instance and each person leaves a mark

some with an expiration date

and yet others so embedded they become freckles

the hearts' fingerprints...

Fingerprints

there are fingerprints

on my skin

in no set pattern

these small constellations

trickle down my shoulder

and are lightly sprinkled on my thighs

like small clusters of confetti

different shades and shapes imprinted deep

within my skin

but there's this one

this short lived tryst

this one fingerprint

i can't seem to stop looking at

and wonder

when did this little fingerprint

made by your heart

turn into a freckle

that wont seem to fade

- lola besott