Old Cigarettes and Black Coffee

By Wren Serrano

Among other things, this book contains all my emotions, thoughts, and concerns in poem (and prose) form from the past three years. Much has changed since then, which is evident while you flip through. All in all, I hope at least one person finds inspiration or hope in these pages. You are never alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543475302

Wren Serrano

Erika (wren) Serrano, is seventeen years old and a senior in high school. this is her first poetry book to be published, and it certainly won't be her last. she wrote this over the course of three years, collecting all of her thoughts into a finalized manuscript to share.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Wren Serrano.

Library of Congress Control Number:             2017919687

ISBN:                   Hardcover                                   978-1-5434-7532-6

                            Softcover                                     978-1-5434-7531-9

                            eBook                                           978-1-5434-7530-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/22/2018

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Contents

Part One Blue

Part Two Yellow

Part Three Lavender

to jack,

with love,

e.

Part One

Blue

                    my head spins at

                    the sound of your voice.

                    i never liked roses but

                    he liked roses and that

                    was enough for me to

                    find them beautiful.

                  the sunset could never

                  compare to you, no matter

                  what mixture of mismatched

                  colors it pops or how many

                  shades of orange it fades into.

                you look like summer rain,

                your skin sends rushes of

                blood to my brain, leaving me

                senseless. your voice tangles

                in knots with my spine and tugs

                so far, it finally snaps to the rhythm.

                  green is the prettiest of

                  all colors, i think. it’s in

                  flowers, books, grass,

                  homes, even people,

                  but it only feels right when

                  i see it in his eyes.

                the only thing he loved more

                than morning coffee, was waking

                up at 5:43am to read his favorite

                book from start to end.

                —he’s book worthy, part one

                his eyes worked like heaven and

                felt like warm baths on cold winter

                mornings just before work. his lips

                touched like sharp ice carvings and

                brushed like stunningly shaped grass

                sculptures. he was artwork in every

                sense of the word, even if he wasn’t

                your perception of it.

                he didn’t even know the words, but he

                sang me the dumbest love song i’ve

                heard in ages and yet it was beautiful

                simply because it was him.

—he was book worthy, part two

              today is just one of those days where

              i wish i was drowning in specks of green

              dusted with tiny stars of silver instead of

              my own sadness.

            kiss me so deeply that three days after

            you’re gone, on a plane somewhere, i

            can still feel the pressure