
Poem of the Day: An Abundance of Love


I wrote this poem in May of 2016.

I didnβt think this day would come so soon
I wasnβt prepared for the emotions I would feel
βdoomed to be another βstatisticβ βwhen I had you at 17
they said
And when at 4, when the diagnosis of autism came
βGood luck to him to becoming a productive member of society
they sai
βNo way, will you succeed ,brown autistic boy,
son of a teenage momβ
they said
Yet here you are –
proving THEM wrong
Here is where you belong
not yet graduated from high school
but starting your first college classes
Tonight
Here is where you belong
despite the obstacles,the haters, society
trying to diminish your light for being different
here is where you belong
-on the start of a journey to success
and here I am beaming with pride
And love for you, my beautiful brown boy
defying odds and statistics,
and everyone who ever stood in your way.
as you write your own David and Goliath story
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times youβve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

The first and last time I tried to die
I tried to get everything right
I wrote letters to my loved ones
and swallow each pill one by one
All that was easy enough
but really dying was tough
Something inside me was too stubborn
And sent one last text out to a friend
who alerted my husband
Between her and him, I never reached my end
but in that moment
I understood the suicidal writers and poets
Living is exhausting,living is agonizing
I yearned for the sweetness of death
to take away my mediocre breath
But the universe or God had other plans
And today I finally understand
Living is painful,living is terrible
But living is also beautiful
and really living is admirable
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

saliva drips from my month as a gentle desire overtakes me
tacos de carne asada with onions and cilantro in front of me
he knew exactly how to start melting the jaded and bitter bitch in me
he knew how to lure out the romantic in me whoβs terrified to start anew
and while to some it may seem like a simple gesture
he knew that to me it meant everything
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

I keep trying to write my next chapter of love and find my next ex
but this time itβs difficult and tricky
since Iβm not desperate, Iβm not crazy and I have standards
and I donβt automatically swipe right on 10 out of 10 face card,
I really observe where they stand on important issues
like will they make the main and only romantic protagonist
in their life?
will they fetichize me like Iβm some cute, sexy, and exotic little thing?
are they the kind of person to cheer if anyone in my family gets deported
so many things to ponder about as I try to find my next ex
perhaps, Iβm overthinking this and should try to not be so picky
then again, I know how quickly the romantic in me cling to someone
the minute I feel chemistry, the minute they feel like home to me
only for me to break apart catastrophically when it all comes crashing down
nah, I canβt let that happen ever again
so this time around, itβs best to be strategic and think logically to myself
rule with my head instead of my heart
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and Iβm both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldnβt even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I canβt even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I canβt imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment
horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

Downloaded hinge to become unhinged
the fountain of inspiration was waning
and I needed a dose of new character energy
even if some of those characters are icky and shady
even if some of those characters annoy me
I canβt keep writing about the same old repetitive stories
reheating old trauma for the purpose of making art
after a while, it gets exhausting
after a while, it makes no sense since Iβve forgiven them all
and honestly, I canβt do another 4 years of Trump
Celibate and devoid of any romantic energy