TheyÕre always there,

a choir of angels

with bad intentions.


I do not do

well with change.

They donÕt care.

They donÕt let me smoke.


Every time I

start to light up they ring

their bells in my head.


I cannot think

straight when they do that.  I

drop my cigarette.


My hands shake and

I canÕt hold my lighter.

I burn my fingers.


These bad angels

get inside my thoughts and

I cannot stop them.


IÕm nervous all

the time.   I used to drink

to help me relax.


These same angels

sobered me up.  IÕm just

a goody two-shoes.


I do not like

the new me.  

I want the life

they stole from me.






I think I would walk

twenty miles

if I had to just

to see you.


In the pouring rain

under an

angry sun, with

a bad knee.


If I knew where you

lived, I could

be there in a few

hours, no sweat.


With worn out shoes and

hung over,

I would take my time

to get there.


If you welcomed me

with open

arms, I think I would

run full speed.







I never wanted to say,

Goodbye, dear friend.

I never saw her again.


Years ago, before I got

to this place, I

said goodbye, goodbye to her.


All these feeling stayed the same.

All the letters

inside a shoebox, pictures


too, now dusty with small spiders

crawling there and

leaving broken hearted too.


I never wanted to say,

Goodbye, dear friend,

and meaning it forever.



© Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal


Bio:  Luis has a new chapbook, Digging A Grave, which will be out in late 2010 from Kendra Steiner Editions,