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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
pill popper with a vacant gaze, all of the money in the world couldn’t make her happy that big house, her gerber blonde toddler son couldn’t touch the numbness she felt and so she popped xanax and oxycontin like candy didn’t care who she was hurting all she wanted to do was escape the suburban hell she was living in
Lukewarm response as I suggest coming to see you and my gut tells me something is amiss telling me you miss me but dodge an opportunity to see me Can’t say why or make plans to see me and I change my relationship status to single confused, frustrated not understanding how I got here almost begging another man for crumbs of affection for the bare minimum
karma bit me and now I’m paying for all of my emotional crimes now I’m met with silence and indifference and I go and examine what was the final straw which post led you over the ledge from friendship to being acquaintances once again
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way thatthey almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow. **This poem went through heavy edits in June of 2026.
Often men want this girl…the ones that’s always down for a “good” timeBUT run away from this one….the other girl …the vulnerable one that has a realness hard to accept
Tell me I’m beautiful, tell me I’m sexy Objectify me, sleep with me breadcrumb me, ghost me, then try to come back to me And when I deny you insult me, threaten me,try your best to hurt me- Your words mean nothing to me You’re not the first but will be the last who tries to destroy me You’re not the first but will be the last who treats me like your on call whore You’re not the first but will be the last who tells me I’m not good enough and after all that, try to come back again and Tell me you miss, tell me you want me Tell me you’re sorry, tell me you LOVE ME Be persistent in your quest in trying to bed me with empty promises about how this time it will be different and how we have history so I can laugh and laugh and turn you down and watch you sulk honey, I know you watch me on social media so you should know better than to ever come back to me
I wrote this in September of 2019 after I read somewhere about some politician making fun of AOC for doing the “Latina Thing”. It annoyed the fuck out of me.
Edit: I revised this poem heavily in 2025 when I performed it in open mic. Here’s a link to that performance
what I think of the haters
make fun of our accents,make fun of our names- call us feisty, caliente, spicy. too loud, too sexy try to bully us into silence try to put us down with racist and ignorant insults try to stereotype us- try to make us feel less than try to kill us- but understand that we’re here to stay, and we’re not letting anyone get in our way don’t you know that we’re descendents of Mayan, Aztec, and Incan Kings and Queens and survival and resilience is embedded in our DNA y estamos aquí para quedarnos para siempre
he came for my people followed the rhetoric of our hate fueled president men, women, children killed in cold blood because they were the wrong race, the wrong color spoke the wrong language he came for “US” the so-called invaders him at just 21 years old filled with hatred from head to toe brainwashed by white supremacy twenty two lives taken as a consequence of a monstrous ideology twenty two families who will forever grieve and mourn the neverending sorrow loss of their loved ones taken too soon twenty two families with an infinity of questions and no real answers and as usual the useless thoughts and prayers come, and the law makers are the worst, making empty promises to fight this American epidemic but after a few days, they will forget like everyone else it’s no longer a question of why this happened tt’s become a question of when will be the next time
the shelf of my bookcase breaks, and my poetry notebooks fall every single one of my love stories scattered on the floor Failure after failure Were any of them worth the effort? Was the experience worth the suffering? Maybe it was for the inspiration behind my prose and poetry and the growth I’ve had Still, that doesn’t seem like an adequate answer
