I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

lately I hate everything I have written
Sometimes I get the urge to burn
Or delete everything
but something tells me
this is how I know Iβm growing
Iβm evolving in my craft

Out of the saddest minds
Comes the greatest creativity
I wonder why that is–
Is it because there are
No boundaries set in our minds?
Is it because
We live 100 lives
In 1 lifetime?
Is it because we are easily
Inspired by devastation and loss?
It is because pain and sadness
Flows out of us
More easily than others
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

youβve change from spring to autumn within moments
never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve
never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism
Iβve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble
than it was worth
always viewing things in extremes
always making devils and angels out of people
who are really just mortals
my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse
or my biggest blessing depending on the season,
the weather or the day

I search for peace and tranquility but it evades me
sometimes I find it but it quickly dissipates
Feeling so much all of the time gets exasperating
I yearn for a vacation from this intensity
Iβm starting to think this is my destiny
To fall in love hard and feel heartbreak even harder
To write a few poems when Iβm in love
To write a hundred poems when I face another love failure
maybe itβs best to truly accept me
a girl sometimes full of serenity
a girl always full of intensity
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we canβt forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder whatβs so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws


Whatβs the one luxury you canβt live without?
Privilege and Luxury
Luxury looks like the chauffeur
who drives me and my sister
to ballet classes
and my brother to karate
Privilege tastes like eating garlic cloves
in bed with my bunny
who wears a knitted hat
made by my Mami
Luxury smells like el amuerzo
of rice and over easy eggs
the maid serves us
Privilege sounds like a bomb
going off near our house
one of its residents
loses his hearing because of it
Luxury feels like my mami understanding
terrorism is at her front door
and applying for U.S sponsorship
through a relative
Privilege is having parents
who crossed the border
for us and with us
out of love and for our safety
I wrote this poem in June of 2024. It was inspired by the disappearance of little Latina girl in my area that I didn’t feel was getting enough media attention.

I pray for the little brown girl lost in Gainesville
the one thatβs my sonβs age
the one that looks like my sister at that age
the one who has my mamiβs name
I pray sheβs found alive
I pray that she finds warmth in her parents
arms soon
I pray more of a big deal is made out of
her disappearance
and sheβs found quickly
because Iβm sure that if this little girl
had been a jonbenet look alike
more would have been done to find her
and bring her back to her family
her community
thatβs been missing her greatly
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

Iβm ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay
shared over awkward getting to know you conversations
with no expectations to put out
Iβll be a completely different woman when Iβm dating again
a woman selective about who allows near her
a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention
from the wrong men
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you donβt know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

saw you and knew right away there wouldnβt be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if Iβm still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-sheβs careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live




Here’s a poem I wrote about being Peruvian American: