poetry: mother of three
I wrote this in February of 2019

Mother of three
What does that even mean?
Responsibilities, obligations, duties
Alcohol and going out are taboo for me
Songs of sacrifices and martyrdom
Are the tunes I hum
Dinner with friends and late
Night concerts are just WRONG!
Soccer games and play dates
Are my important dates
No time to spend
With my lifetime mates?
Mother of three,
Will I ever be free?
It’s me and my slam poetry mix against the world today. Also, life is too short to care about ripped stockings. Let’s goooo!
poetry: I trust myself
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

I fall in love and obsessed over these concepts over who I should be,
over who I should love, over who I should mirror
I read and read books on BPD, mental health, and trauma constantly
I take advice from influencers, poets, and psychologists on social media
Seriously thinking this is how I heal, this is how I become healthy
but that’s a lie-
while everything I do helps me
I need to listen to my intuition more
I need to trust myself more
and acknowledge I’m doing enough
and come to an understanding I am on my heroine’s journey
that’s unique only to me
honor my truth within me, accept it, and that’s how I begin to really heal
With Stick Season on repeat and daydreams, I’m getting through this 12 hour work day.
I hope my almost birthday twin stays in my life forever. 🥰🥰🥰
poetry: graduation
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

I’m graduating from writing about revenge and everyone who has harmed me
I’m switched this narrative from woman scorned and full of spite
To a woman reborned opened to love and joy in life
While it’s fun to be petty and mean
It’s better for me to reclaim the corny romantic in me
the one I’ve kept hidden for 18 months
the one who cries at the end of rom coms
the one who’s desperate to fall in love again
to continue this narrative about how I’m in love with my solitude
no longer suits me
when I have a universe of love to give
Reading and journaling on a Sunday afternoon.
It’s delusional stocker girl Saturday! Let’s go and get lost in daydreams.🥹🤣🤣🎉
poetry: am I even your type?
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

am I reading too much into the attention and energy you’re giving me
the casual messages, the comments on my posts
the nervous vibe and the hug you gave me the first time we met
It felt like chemistry
Am I even your type?
Or is this the beginning of beautiful friendship
One that will last, one that will be healthy
Without the complications and expectations
that lust or love brings
Happy birthday to me and my son! Chapter 43 is going to be lit!!!!🤣🎉🔥🔥🔥
poetry: an open letter to year 42
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

I’m at year 42 and I’m only getting started on my heroine’s journey
I’ve learned so much about myself and my toxic patterns in year 41
I understand now how my overreactions, my need to avoid conflict
my need to please were all trauma responses learned from childhood
where my emotions were never validated
I now hold a world of knowledge, confidence, and power within me
and on year 42, I ready to act like the badass Incan Queen
I make myself out to be
Except this year I’ll act out of love and compassion
and not out of revenge and spite
even when I’m pissed, angry at someone or at something
I need to dig in deep and feel that grief
instead of immediately throwing out accusations
and blaming everyone but me
Understand it’s me projecting my insecurities
This year I’ll continue my heroine’s journey in healing and recovery
but I’ll try to do it more with grace, with intent and compassion
for myself and others
I’ll cover myself in love from God, the universe, and my ancestors
with all of that love act out of a pure and intentional energy
that will continue to help grow and evolve
Last day of year 42.🥹🎉
It’s the end of Chapter 42 in my life story. While my life is far from ideal, I’m still grateful and feel incredibly blessed for this past year of growth. I think that two words that describe this year have been: community and bravery. I found community with friends, at open mic, online with other writers, and continue to strengthen my relationships with my sons. I also reconnected even more with my beautiful culture and homeland . I was brave this year in many ways, but I was very intentional about it. It was hard at times to do certain things and continue to find the willpower and determination to do them, but I did it. I’m not sure what chapter 43 has for me. I don’t have any big plans aside from writing my book and continuing to be my moody and creative Pisces self with an occasional ray of sunshine. It’s been a good year. 🥹🎉 #piscesseason #endof42 #birthdayweek https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3qBI13MkRN/?igsh=YWhxaWZjMHgycGJw
Pisces season is here!!! It’s mine, my son’s, my friend’s time to shine so bright that people are annoyed by us! Let’s goooooo!!!
poetry: emotional eater
I wrote this poem in February of 2020.

Eating away my emotions with junk food and sugar
is healthier than meth and taking pills to sleep forever
Each bite I take and swallow keeps me alive
and further from a sweet death that tempts me
Food becomes the driving force behind my mediocre existence
until I can find a new obsession








