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Poetry: Control Myself

I wrote this poem in 2019 when I got into a fight with a friend because he was cruel to one of my friends. After this fight, we didn’t talk for 2 years but we ended up reconnecting in the summer of this year.

random pic of me pissed in 2019

“Control myself”, he said as I called out his misogyny
his fragile ego couldn’t handle hard truths thrown at him
he thinks that he has a license to offend
because of the organ between his legs and the pale color of his skin-
He thinks that I’m wrong for not sitting still and silent
He thinks that I have no right to stand up for myself
“Control myself”, he said to and “fuck off” I replied to him
you won’t ever be able to control a woman like me

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poetry: simpler times

I wrote this poem in October of 2025.

me in the 90s in simpler time

compasses, faded maps, stereos, VCRS, corded phones
all relics of another era
when we weren’t one click away from seeking validation
from our peers or the news trying to break us with each headline
simpler times when we could ignore
what was happening around us

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poesía: susurros

escribí este poema en septiembre del 2022.

los susurros de mi alma me dicen
que por fin me acepto como soy
que por fin me entiendo completamente
que por fin siento un agradecimiento
por una vida llena de dos lenguajes
dos culturas y dos hogares
soy la hija de nacimiento de Perú
y la hija adoptiva de América
soy la sangre de los Incas
con la mentalidad de Washington

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poetry: my song

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

my heart sings a bilingual song in imperfect castellano
and a fluent English
entre carcajadas y calor de mi comunidad de Athens
between my few childhood memories of Lima
entre las risas de mis hijos
between my parents many sacrifices
entre Wham y Slyvia Plath
between Bad Bunny and Gustavo Becquer
llevo América en mi corazón
I carry Peru in my veins
canto esta cancion con amor y dolor
I sing this song with love and pain

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poetry: bicutural

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

I breathe in America I exhale out Peru
I’m distant, cold, and reserved at times
I’m warm, nurturing and dramatic at times
I was born in Peru, land of the Incas
land of the conquistadores
and have the blood of both run through my veins
along with their determination and fortitude
I was raised for most of my life in America
and lost part of my language and culture
and gained an individualistic American mindset
I breathe in America, I exhale out Peru
never had a choice in this bicultural existence

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poetry: pesadilla

I wrote this poem in September of 2025.

once again the united states of white supremacy throws another wrench at my community
making it more of a crime to exist as we are
trying to erase our culture, trying to shame us for our heritage
trying to force us into assimilation by any means possible
trying to target us for simply not fitting into their idea of what America
should look and sound like
and I stand up in defiance and say, a mi me vale madre pendejos
estoy que desde 1986, sembrando raíces en California, Hawaii y Georgia
y me quedaré aquí como su peor pesadilla
una mujer latina, criada y educada en este país
que no se dejara llevar por la marginación y racismo constante
de esta administración
y que luchará hasta el último respiro por quedarse aquí

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poetry: finding love

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

little inner girl healed

I found love and it wasn’t at a bar or an app
I found it on the soil I was born on,
I found it in the embrace of my homeland
I found it in welcome from everyone
I met and reconnected with
I found it in the accent I never had
I found love as the prodigal daughter of my country
I hadn’t seen in 32 years

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poetry: seasons change

I wrote this poem in September of 2025.

as summer wanes, and the days gets shorter and cool air welcomes me in the morning
I feel a magnitude of gratitude and grief for this summer
gratitude for all of the time spent with friends, for the poetry written, for all the growth that happened
and grief for the vacation not taken, for the depression that paused me at various points,
for the things not accomplished
and as the leaves turn, I wonder about I could have if only I hadn’t struggled with mental illness

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poetry: not promised tomorrow

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

just me and my entire universe

we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must make the best of our todays-
creating community with our friends, reconnecting with our roots
loving our children with a loud fervor
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must appreciate
everything we have
the legs that take us on walks and runs
the creativity that flows from our minds
the laughter shared with loved ones

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poetry: last time

I wrote this poem in September of 2025.

last time I saw her, she was on her 5th husband
she didn’t know how to be alone, stand up on her own
always needed a man by her side
and even as she aged and her looks waned
she had her aryan blonde blue eyed looks to get her by
it was a crystalized existence
something about her frozen in time
someone had never taught her that alone
she was enough

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poetry: beautiful

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

a unique kind of beautiful

and the roses never wilted,
they just transformed into flowers
never seen before
for a while it looked like they were dying
as they slowly turned gray and then black
but then they bloomed into something different,
a unique kind of beautiful