poetry: crayons and guns

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

me with my oldest son in October of 2022

With excitement in his eyes, my son used to bring me pictures of made up monsters
Drawn with crayons-
With pride in his stance, he now brings me target sheets showing me how he’s well on his way
to becoming a decent shot with a revolver
When did my child go from crayons to guns?
It seems like I blinked and he went from four to twenty four
He went from being a rambunctious little boy who was hard to keep up with
to a strong and independent man who no longer needs me
And while I’m full of joy about this transformation-
I still miss the carefree days of crayon drawn monsters

poetry: fighting with my teenage son

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

me and my teenage son when he was toddler

Me and my teenage son fight and I regret it the next day
I’ve watched too many people mourn their sons this year
I’ve felt the screams of those close to me
asking God why he took their babies too young
Young men who will never be fathers,
Young men who will never see their children grow up
into rebellious and sassy teens
and while I understand conflicts happens between
parent and child
I also know we’re both on borrowed time
and I don’t want our angry words
to be the last exchange between us
if its his or my last day today

poetry: christopher columbus

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

for real, for real

Maybe it’s lack of sex or lack of sleep but I must declare-
Christopher Columbus is a piece of shit
Maybe it’s my own insecurities or maybe it’s a projection
but I must say you can get away with murder
if you’re a white male
Maybe it’s the BPD and the depression
But I must scream FUCK WHITE SUPREMACY

poetry: a letter to Eliza

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

I’m worth much more than my beauty

Eliza, eliza, eliza
what have you done?
Entering a beauty content you have no business entering
While you’re beautiful ,confident and powerful-
Beauty contests aren’t for you when european beauty standards
rule society
it’s not that you’re less than them
It’s just that your type of beauty is only meant to be fetishized
to be fantasized about
your beauty is a temporary place for men
your beauty can’t keep a man, only excite men
So while I’ll share the link
and every now and then remind people to vote for you
Remember your worth is not wrapped up in your beauty
Because you’re more than your good looks
You’re everything
Kind, loyal, intelligent, witty, sexy, everything a man can dream of
A woman a man can really love and be loyal to
You just haven’t met him yet
Trust is the process-trust in God’s divine timing

poetry: a new love story

I wrote this poem in October 2022.

Maybe I need a new love story-even if it’s temporary
so I can find relief and some peace from this loneliness
That’s making me into an insane mess
Maybe losing myself in someone else
Will stop making me feel less-
or perhaps what’s really happening
It’s me allowing my depression talk me into finding a solution-
for my neverending frustration with healing and growth
and always having to look within for what I need
But perhaps if I had somebody maybe for once, I could just be

poetry: tsunami

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

Poesia: El Pasado

a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16-
as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love
as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off-
regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach
and I want to vomit
Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe
and I’m transported back to my present
I’m safe again in my body-
as I come to accept and love
the immature and impulsive girl I once was
who carelessly gave herself to others
who never thought about the consequences
and took risks
she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be-
she was just in a rush to live her life

poetry: always with you

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

I’ll always be with them

To my sons, when I leave the earth
Remember I am with you always
I am in my oldest son’s resilience
I am in my middle son’s dark humor
I am in my youngest son’s bright energy
I exist in your laughter, in your cries,
in your failures, in your wins
I am and always will be with you

poetry: transformation

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me in September of 2022,,,the transformation is complete

The transformation is complete
from caterpillar and butterfly
It was full of painful epiphanies that brought an epic catharsis
It was life changing and transcendental
Facing my fears, driving out the toxicity within
Acknowledging brutal truths, letting go of regrets
and embracing my divine duality
I’ve finally become the butterfly I was always meant to be
who flies and lands on her own terms

poetry: Lima

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me in Lima in September of 2022

the nostalgia of Lima sets in
and I ache for the sights, sounds, and warmth
of my homeland-
even though it’s been a few days
I want to go back already
I don’t feel myself fully in American
my body’s here but my spirit was left in lima
maybe because the few memories I have of Lima
are happy and mostly pure from trauma
whereas in America
it’s been tragedy after tragedy
disappointment after disappointment
and while I’ve planted my roots here with my children
my spirit now resides somewhere in Lima