poetry: psychopathy

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

should have apologized there, Brad

five years ago, I was obsessed with a psychopath
he made me believe he wanted only me
he made himself out to be single for 10 fucking years
but one day I found out through his dad’s obituary he was married
and I severed our connection without any remorse or apologies from him
he claimed he didn’t do anything wrong, he was just a private person
that day I received my honorary degree in psychopathy

poetry: it’s cool, it’s okay

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

poesía: gracias a ti

cupid gets it wrong once again-
bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month-
This time he tells me,
“You’re cool enough to make out with
but not good enough for my mom”
I almost throw my phone across the room
instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay”
and take a pen to my rage on paper

poetry: trauma undisturbed

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

You will always be a secret that I’ll regret
one that makes me full of shame and guilt
one I’ve tried to block again and again unsuccessfully
It’s something I will never talk about
it would cause my inner world much harm
so I’ll keep quiet about it
Swallow it whole
It’s a story of trauma that doesn’t need to be told

poetry: saint tracey

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

me with my oldest in 1998

saint tracey assured me my life wasn’t over
she showed me love and compassion
when everyone else shunned me
she accepted me for who I was
and encouraged me to follow the path of success
she saw the hidden potential in me
when other teachers saw laziness
she was a prayer from God
sent to me to remind me
my mistakes don’t define me
and that I was still worthy of the love
and goodness in the world

poetry: target

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

Family life in the 80s
Family life in the 80s

my aunt treated us like we were inferior and subhuman
constantly pointing out our flaws with subtle sarcasm
putting pressure on my mom to choose her over us
insulting my father or sister
what about us made her project her insecurities
Was it my dad’s intelligence or my sister’s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didn’t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my aunt’s abuse?

poetry: first grade

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

me in 1987 in first grade

in first grade, I learned to be ashamed and embarrassed of who I was,
and where I came from
maybe the nuns were ignorant of the damage they were doing
and since that time I’ve had identity issues
for years, i gave up my language and my heritage in order to fit in-
to have proximity to being an American
but all it did was fuck up my identity
and while I have forgiven the nuns for the damage done
I have a hard time finding compassion for myself
I have a hard time letting go the guilt
For the pain I caused my family
I have a hard time understanding I was just a kid
desperately trying to fit in, to belong, to be accepted
to conform of the standards of being American society fed me