Escribí este poema en el 2016 cuando una ola de nostalgia me visito y me puse a pensar en mi primer amor.
La inocencia del primer amor Se queda como un tatuaje en tu mente Nunca podrás olvidar cómo se sintió Ese primer beso nervioso O como buscaban rincones escondidos Para mostrarse amor Nunca se olvida la gran emoción Que llevas dia por dia al verlo Y nunca, nunca olvidarás el primer amor Que falleció con su repente desamor
Con solo 16 años pensaba que sabía lo que era el amor
I wrote this poem in 2016 when I was reflecting on how different my children were. At the time, my middle son was going through a difficult time and it was hard to deal with.
my 3 sons in July of 2021
Living with my three children
Is like living in three different countries
My oldest would be Singapore
With strict rules and laws,
He hates flaws in himself
And others and is unforgiving
It’s challenging to live in
Singapore
My middle child would be a war torn ridden country
Deseo olvidar todo lo que vivimos el amor que hicimos, las risas que compartimos Deseo hacerte ver el daño que me hiciste Deseo hacer sentir mi agonía intensa y aguda Deseo herirte y lentamente destruirte Deseo que esto no me importara más pero la vida no es justa
he caído en un abismo de tristeza descubriendo que tu eras otro infeliz que me usastes para tu placer carnal fui ciega al pensar que me querías de verdad fui una inútil enamorandome de ti es mejor que ya pare jugando este juego de amor
I wrote this in 2015 inspired by a situation I was going through.
me around the time I wrote this poem
A Song to My Lover
Songs are written about people like us Good songs and bad songs, r&b songs, pop songs, and of course country songs Songs that try to capture the complexity of infidelity Most of them try to capture the guilt and the grief Some of them capture the romantic notion Of secret meetings, stolen kisses And the excitement But there doesn’t seem to be A particular song for us… Could a song really capture something so profound and beautiful ? Something tainted by the reality of our situation Being with my husband is a commitment I made It’s an everyday task, not for the faint of heart Being with you is easy It’s refreshing not having to try so hard to make sweet reality work It’s amazing that you know what to do to make me feel wanted And my poor husband still hasn’t got a clue It’s refreshing that when you are with me, You see a person, a lover and not just a wife and mother These are things neve appear in songs because our truth is an alternate universe of the complexities of finding contentment from someone else at the wrong time
Porque me demore tanto tiempo en descubrir que tu eras otra cancion estupida Porque tuvistes que ser una basura y dejarme con un sabor amargo en mi boca Porque me creí en tu actuación de hombre bueno Porque causastes una herida tan severa en mi corazón Estoy harta de este infierno de tristeza Porque te apareciste en mi vida solo para arruinarmela
I wrote this poem sometime around 2014 or 2015. I was feeling nostalgic about a former flame I had been obsessed with. This tends to happen a lot with me. Letting go of my past is hard at times.
Debi seguido mi intuición cuando sentí que me mentías Cuando me decías que estabas trabajando En realidad, estabas follando Debí irme de tu vida la primera vez que me mentiste pero quería creer en tu cuento de hadas ahora siento un alivio profundo desde que terminamos porque tu fuistes mandado del infierno
I wrote this poem in 2006 about my Mother In Law and my second son. We lived with her for a year and she was enamored by him.
Almost frozen in her familiarity Trapped by her body’s slow betrayal Boredom and solitude embrace her tightly Her unheard cries drown her Forgotten, forgotten she was Her world had come to an almost silent Pause Until She saw him With beady eyes as blue as hers And skin rumpled as lover’s sheets He was a heinous sight But to her He was splendid to her dying eyes He became her last burst of joy, Her last adoration And her last breath of life She was ending with his fresh scent of purity And he was starting with her aged scent of experience