I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
you creep into my dreams once again and I hate my brain for it/can’t it understand there’s nothing left to say/there’s no need for closure/this distance is better for both of us/besides there’s no coming back from this
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
miss the days when I was your favorite person, when you greeted me with excitement
when we played candyland for your hours
Nowadays. I’m lucky to get a “hi” from you, nowadays, I hear more from you
through cashapp than IRL
nowadays when I ask you about your day, you murmur a one word response
and overnight you went from my sweet cherub to a tall and lanky stranger
I don’t recognize and while I still hear you play with your legos
I know those days are coming to an end soon
While growing up is inevitable to the passage of time
it’s still heartbreaking and painful
because you’re the last one of my trinity
making the transition from boy to man
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
can’t seem to get away from my demons no matter how fast i run,
no matter how healed I claim to be
they always haunt me in my dreams, or when I’m at my most vulnerable
and happy thinking life might finally be going right for me
But out of the blue, my new boyfriend annoys me,
unexpected bills show up, my stalker is back and creeping on my blog,
and I fight with my teenage son
I wonder what did I do to piss off the universe this time
I wrote poem in May of 2023.
my son is bright green as he explores the world
as he learns to communicate his needs
as he learns to navigate life
and comes across joy and heartbreak
and comes to me with questions
when something doesn’t work out
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
my joe goldberg is back and a sense of doom overwhelms me
especially because I know how psychol this Joe is
from thinking he’s in love with me because of my blog
to remember the constant barrage of harassment I endured from him
for a few years, I got a major case of the icks
and while I should be extra happy my blog is getting ten time the views
it normally gets
it creeps me out entirely knowing it’s him
knowing that somehow my blog and my pics on there
are fodder for his spank back and his many delusions
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
It’s fading fast, the time where you willingly spend time with me
Soon you’ll prefer your friends to me
Soon you’ll lock yourself in your room and only come out for food
Your voice is changing and you’re already taller than me
and your hormones makes you all kinds of angry
and me and everyone in the house are in denial
that you’re growing up
because you’ve been the baby for so long
our little rainbow who lights up our family
and it’s hard for us to accept our baby is blossoming
into a young man
and every day my heart hurts more thinking
how fast it’s all going, and how soon I’ll be forgotten
slowly fading into your background
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
ego finally captured, I’m calm and humbled
the spiral of paranoia is gone
no one hates me, no one’s out to get me
it was a false narrative I created in moments
of madness
it was fake news as I let my emotions
get the better of me and control me
I’ve gained clarity again
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
My son giggled as he fell in the pumpkin patch
his laughter brought back the reason
for my existence and purpose
What is the best concert you have been to?
The best concert was Conan Gray!!!!
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
I punish the men in my life with silence
I learned it from my mom
she’d last days without saying a word to my dad
after a fight
always waited until he broke down and apologized
she always needed to win
and while I’m not as brutal as her
I need to protect myself when a man makes me feel
like I’m not good enough, like I’m a monster
so I walk away calm and give a silence so deafening
they’re ask a million questions why
they’ll search answers in between the lines
of the posts I write
and if they’re smart enough and get the hint,
they’ll stay away from me
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
My son is blossoming and becoming the man
I always knew he could be
He’s ambitious, he’s kind,he’s a hard worker
He’s a mother’s dream come true
And while at times he may still stumble and occasionally
He’s inherited strength and resilience from me
It keeps him from giving up
It keeps him moving towards a life full of success and happiness
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
it found me on a tuesday afternoon, inspiration for a book
a poetry book of sorts telling my life story
and while this has happened many times
I pray this one sticks because I have all of my material
in my google docs
at the very least, it’s given me inspiration as to where
to go next
escribí este poema en mayo del 2022.
Mi ratoncito está creciendo
en unos años perderá su inocencia de niño
En unos años su voz cambiara
en unos años meses estará más alto que yo
Y aunque este triste porque perderé mi niño tierno
estoy emocionada para conocer el hombre
En Que se convertirá en unos años
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
it’s the hunger games time again
I meant the MET Gala
where celebrities show off their ostentatious
and grotesque expensive outfits
while the majority of us are trying
to make sure all of the bills are paid,
wondering if we do indeed deserve our weekly treat
at starbucks, while some of us are being deported
to countries we don’t belong to
or that we don’t remember for the sole crime
of being brown and having the right documents
it’s the hunger games time again
oh I meant the MET Gala
and of course we’re shocked Sabrina
didn’t wear pants and that Rihanna is pregnant again
even though half a world away in Gaza,
moms are burying their children,
that’s if they’re lucky to find them under the rubble
and the Good Ole USA is on it’s way
to becoming a Nazi state and half of us
are in a cult devoted to Trump while the other half
are struggling and unsure of where
to look for comfort, for reprieve from all
of the fires burning
Life on the BPD 