poetry: heaven

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

vibe: victorian and broody

this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
don’t know which way is up
don’t know which way is down
don’t know what is right
don’t know what is wrong
I want someone’s hand to hold but they reach for my breast
I want innocent kisses on the cheek
but they reach for the heaven between my thighs

poetry: fix me

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

can’t imagine why anyone wants to fix this picture of perfection

everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we can’t forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder what’s so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws

Privilege and luxury

Very Proud Daughter of Immigrants

What’s the one luxury you can’t 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

Poetry: Never

I can never compete

With a lifetime of love, of memories

Of him knowing her 

Even when she breaks his heart

Over and over and over again

Even when I let him break mine

Over and over and over again

It’s a vicious cycle of  love, heartbreak, and regret

A cycle where I continue to break my own heart

Because I will never be pretty or skinny 

Like her

I will never be enough!

Poetry: Twenty Years Later

He looked at me like no one’s
ever looked at me
He kissed me with an unquenchable
passion unforeseen
And he touched me, my body
And my soul the way no one ever could
He hugged me tight enough so I felt
The entire essence of him, the past twenty years
Of everything we ever felt for each other
Twenty years of lust, obligations, lies,
Hatred, resentment, passion, memories, life,
And LOVE
In his arms I felt like I was me AGAIN

poetry: whack an asshole

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

for real

I hope this story is buried for a final time
and you don’t pop up again
and I have to play whack an asshole
once again
blocking you on yet another platform
would the universe be kind enough this time
for it to be good riddance forever
cause I’m tired of my past mistakes
to constantly come out of nowhere
to disturb my present

poetry: jon benet lookalike

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.

it’s how this story made me feel

I pray for the little brown girl lost in Gainesville
the one that’s my son’s age
the one that looks like my sister at that age
the one who has my mami’s name
I pray she’s 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 she’s found quickly
because I’m 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
that’s been missing her greatly

poetry: awkward

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

I’m a classy bitch

I’m ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay
shared over awkward getting to know you conversations
with no expectations to put out
I’ll be a completely different woman when I’m dating again
a woman selective about who allows near her
a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention
from the wrong men

poetry: glass of champagne

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

a toast to this woman

a glass of champagne in my hand as I raise a toast
who I used to be
a woman mentally ill and needy
a woman who gave men easy access to her hips
a woman who thought intimacy could only be created
and felt in between her sheets
we say goodbye to the his woman lovingly
as we usher a new era of me
a woman who knows her worth
and won’t settle of anything less
than she deserves

poesía: maldita

escribi este poema en mayo del 2024.

siempre Diosa, siempre maldita

soy la poeta maldita del siglo 21
atormentada, depresiva, dramatica,
salvaje, sin vergüenza, obsesionada
con la muerte
y las poetas malditas de siglos
antepasados
soy la peor pesadilla de esta sociedad
machista
me vestiré con un aire rosado y dulce
pero de mi boca saldrá una energía
feminista y salvaje
y me valdrá madre incomodar a la gente
y no me importara del “que dirán”
y por eso me consideran
una arma maldita y peligrosa
en la sociedad

poetry: rebranding

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

soft girl energy

I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am

Poetry: False Stability *Trigger Warning*

The last time my ex fat shame me..

Appearances were kept well for 15 years

 the husband, the salaried job, the 3 offsprings

I pretended like everything was fine

And yet there were ominous signs

I never felt like my authentic self

and always felt false

I tried on this so called suburban bliss 

and mediocres routines

but knew it just wasn’t me

So I ended up in  profound misery

And one day I wanted to forever sleep

To forget my mediocre reality

 I took 15 numb feeling pills

one for every pseudo happy year

I wanted to slip into a forever dream

to never wake to my false stability 

poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t 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