Miss You

Music and Lyrics by Virginia Valenzuela. All rights reserved.
I had your heart in pieces of stone.
I had your hand, but it’s not mine to hold.

Lost our way, these days I am so cold.
Wish you’d stay, but it’s me who remains…

You found me withered and worn.
Living free, but wishing for more.

Be my love, I’ll be your clear, blue sky.
It’s not right, still I fight, but you’ll never come inside…

What’s it like? I may never know.

Keep me here. I’m never gonna run and hide.
I won’t miss you…

Luna de Sombra

Green, enchanting green,
How I long for you to appear
How I long for you to pick me up
And empty me of my tears.

Green, such loving green,
How I desire to feel your pain
How I desire to wash it over me
So I’d forget what I can’t explain.


Two sisters sit
On the roof of the moon
One crying tenaciously
One petting the Loon.

And the one sways unsteadily
And the other dives endlessly—
Neither knows just how easy
Life can be when one learns to let go.

“Bitte, meine Schwester, let me
Give you both my hands
Let me carry your burdens to the shore
And bury your tears in sand.”


Green, my healing green,
How I wish for you to bind me
To wrap my woes in tightened bounds
To seep into the blood that blinds me.

Green, with clarity, green,
How I hoped to uncover the sky
But found no glimpse of sunlight
But found no hope in her eye.


The Loon dives out of the sister’s arms
Disappears into the Mother’s eye
She winks, and the roof shakes tenderly
Shakes the sisters back into the sky.

The first falls down to the earth
And cracks her jaw on the open cliffs
The other, made entirely of shadows
Scatters among the rifts.


Green, everlasting green!
Can’t you free me from this house of jade?
Can’t you point me toward the anxious trail
Whose directions are pointedly made?

Green, such loving green!
How I desire to feel your pain
How I desire to wash it over me
So I’d forget what I can’t explain.

Published in Otterbein University’s Kate: a Feminist ‘Zine 2015 Issue

The Humble Gentleman


FullSizeRenderA gentleman, smooth, and sultry like earnest winds; his melody swivels: volcanic and flexible. He opens his mouth only to thaw. Banned at the peach pit, molding himself to fit into humble tunnels that shudder in the daylight. His little man…he lassoed the sun. Left us to listen…until all the trumpets were gone. Waiting, waiting. Wishing, fading. Praying for that amber groove to resurface. A ragged slope coos, as an uneven piano scatters above the sky. Mixing winsomely, a drink, gated by white ice and black straws. The gentleman offers you his smile.