I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
drama always finds me
and I don’t know why that is
even as I try to keep my head low
and walk around humble
I still get caught up in telenovela moments
i never ask to be a part of
and the best I can do is make poetry out of it
I wrote this poem in May of 2016.
I didn’t think this day would come so soon
I wasn’t prepared for the emotions I would feel
“doomed to be another “statistic” “when I had you at 17
they said
And when at 4, when the diagnosis of autism came
“Good luck to him to becoming a productive member of society
they sai
“No way, will you succeed ,brown autistic boy,
son of a teenage mom”
they said
Yet here you are –
proving THEM wrong
Here is where you belong
not yet graduated from high school
but starting your first college classes
Tonight
Here is where you belong
despite the obstacles,the haters, society
trying to diminish your light for being different
here is where you belong
-on the start of a journey to success
and here I am beaming with pride
And love for you, my beautiful brown boy
defying odds and statistics,
and everyone who ever stood in your way.
as you write your own David and Goliath story
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times you’ve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
The first and last time I tried to die
I tried to get everything right
I wrote letters to my loved ones
and swallow each pill one by one
All that was easy enough
but really dying was tough
Something inside me was too stubborn
And sent one last text out to a friend
who alerted my husband
Between her and him, I never reached my end
but in that moment
I understood the suicidal writers and poets
Living is exhausting,living is agonizing
I yearned for the sweetness of death
to take away my mediocre breath
But the universe or God had other plans
And today I finally understand
Living is painful,living is terrible
But living is also beautiful
and really living is admirable
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I never belonged to you or him
I belong to the world, the universe
and God
I belong to myself, to my ancestors
I belong to my words for better or worse
I belong to poetry and prose
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
I keep trying to write my next chapter of love and find my next ex
but this time it’s difficult and tricky
since I’m not desperate, I’m not crazy and I have standards
and I don’t automatically swipe right on 10 out of 10 face card,
I really observe where they stand on important issues
like will they make the main and only romantic protagonist
in their life?
will they fetichize me like I’m some cute, sexy, and exotic little thing?
are they the kind of person to cheer if anyone in my family gets deported
so many things to ponder about as I try to find my next ex
perhaps, I’m overthinking this and should try to not be so picky
then again, I know how quickly the romantic in me cling to someone
the minute I feel chemistry, the minute they feel like home to me
only for me to break apart catastrophically when it all comes crashing down
nah, I can’t let that happen ever again
so this time around, it’s best to be strategic and think logically to myself
rule with my head instead of my heart
I wrote a poem in April of 2025.
Sharks from the screen come alive
and devour my heart
i lose all sense of time
and place
who am i?
where am i?
Is this a nightmare?
everything become nonsense
in between
of another before
and AFTER!
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I summon success and wealth
I summon good energy
I summon letting go of unhealthy patterns
I summon a life without grief and strife
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I exist between stocking and typing
I exist between boxes and documents
I exist between hip pain and carpal tunnel
I exist between grocery clerk and receptionist
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I’m both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldn’t even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I can’t even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I can’t imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment
horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I never would change
I find you
I need you
Hey wake up
You can’t be here
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
Downloaded hinge to become unhinged
the fountain of inspiration was waning
and I needed a dose of new character energy
even if some of those characters are icky and shady
even if some of those characters annoy me
I can’t keep writing about the same old repetitive stories
reheating old trauma for the purpose of making art
after a while, it gets exhausting
after a while, it makes no sense since I’ve forgiven them all
and honestly, I can’t do another 4 years of Trump
Celibate and devoid of any romantic energy
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
my teenager gives my dating advice,
at 13, he thinks he knows everything
after watching an unhealthy amount of romantic animes
and getting his first girlfriend
says romance should be a slow burn
don’t hold hands until the twentieth date
and don’t think about the benefits of the men I’m dating
Concentrate on what my heart is feeling
and I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed
but then again at 44, I am the one divorced
with a trail of several trainwrecks relationships left behind
maybe I should take his words of wisdom seriously
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I divorce myself from drama
I marry the calm
I divorce myself from lies
I marry the truth
I divorce myself from faking it
I marry being authentic
I divorce myself from self hatred
I marry self love
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
I blame my ADD, Mami and hypersensitivity for my poetic tendencies
I never had the attention span or time to learn to play an instrument or paint
instead at 15, I learned to write poems out of the shards in my heart left
from a breakup after reading Becquer, and ever since then
It’s been an ongoing love affair with poetry
one that is a refuge from the outside world, one that has been therapeutic
when I felt the sky fall on me many times
and while on most days I still suffer from imposter syndrome
and don’t consider myself a real poet
I don’t and won’t ever let that deter me from processing
the wonderful, terrible, and crazy things in my life through poetry
