I feel like I am always mourning.

Alexander, Abuelita, Adolescence.
Info graphics on instragram
Tell me that grief is just love unending.
All I have ever wanted is to be seen
And sewed, not a darling doll, but 
A stitched surrogate creating chaos.
Too many titles to table:
Leon, Sage, too many names,
Too nocturnal. I feel like a moth
Miraculously untouched by flame.
Perhaps this is a poem too personal
To share: a lesson of my lexicon 
Languishing with memory lane.
Reader, rip this revelation from me;
For it was always yours.