
Natureβs kiss is the sunshine on my face as I run-
and itβs hug is the wind against my body as I fall
into the rhythm of the song Iβm listening to-
nature was part of Godβs remedy for
the darkness and despair I tend to fall into

One day Iβll find the one whoβll break down the fortress
that guards my vulnerability
Heβll know how to handle me
Heβll tell me βIβm impossible when Iβm too muchβ
but will show his love and loyalty
heβll annoy me because heβs human
but our joy will outweigh our conflict
and weβll stress each other out
but never lose sight of the epic love
we feel for one another
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

maybe I restarted the blog for a younger version of us out there
in another state, another country who needs a roadmap,
Understanding, knowledge, and wisdom
in navigating a hard situation they never thought
they had to face
maybe I restarted the blog out of hope that some couple
out there whoβs struggling can find something useful
in my story, in my prose, and my poetry
to get through their own hardship through the worst of it
and make it to the other side, evolve and grow together
in intimacy and find their own happy ending
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

Iβm not sure if I have to work as much as I Do
but I know what happens when I donβt
my electric bill goes in the red
a food stamp application is filled and filed
for me and my family
I start to lose sleep over the bills and the things
my kids need
and when I fall into dreamland
dreams of soup kitchens, panhandling,
and scarcity follow me
and I end up in the land of poverty, insanity
and hypervigilance
where I beat myself up for not doing enough
to give my kids the life they deserve
and I regret my life choices that led me here
especially the one where I chose a lazy baby daddy
Iβm not sure if I have to work as much as I do
but Iβll continue to do so until my body shuts down
who cares if my hip is broken and I hardly have
any time to myself
Iβd rather work myself to the bone than to allow
my family to fall again into being victims of poverty
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

Iβm not the one you want
or the one youβll ever take home
to meet your mama
but Iβm the one etched in your mind,
the one who appears in your dreams
the one you will never forget about
and one of your few regrets
and you,
you were another story among many
another obsession of my past
I hardly ever think about

Are you seeking security or adventure?
lately I take the biggest bites out of life and flaunt it
in front of everyone
for too long I suppress my hunger for experience,
For adventure
thought I was crazy for trying to explore my curious nature
So instead I took small bites here and there
thinking it would be enough
but it wasnβt who I was
a little bird taking nips
naw Iβm a condor reading to pounce and satiate my hunger
my big ass appetite
ready to be satisfied
with the unpleasant and pleasurable things in life
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

another 4 years of trump and who knows if America
will still be standing
if anyone whoβs not male or white will still have rights
another 4 years of trump and I see a future of fascism
and dictatorship and U.S born citizens being sent back
to their parentβs country of origin
another 4 years of trump and Iβm not sure Iβll still be alive
or at very least still maintain a semblance of my sanity
7/29/24
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

it wasnβt until today I realized how ordinary you really were
It wasnβt that you were ever that interesting or special
It was me with my lovergirl delusional glasses
refusing to see past what was in front of me
Seeing and getting caught up in fantasies
of who you could be
when really you were, the most ordinary of men
not malicious, not especially intelligent
not really helpful
just kind of existing without any spark
without anything that would make me
look twice at you now

Pretty gets me in a man’s door
but also makes me feel like a whore
I’ve been pretty sexy, pretty nice, pretty sweet
I’ve also been pretty crazy, pretty Petty, and pretty mean
men love me when I’m pretty and submissive
but not when I’m pretty reclusive
men want the pretty girl who’s fun
but not when I’m a pretty girl who’s a selfish cunt
pretty gets me notice
but also gets me dismissed
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

to see my american dream I just need to step into my backyard
and look at my holy trinity who call me mom
theyβre the ones I try to better myself for
theyβre the one who make my immigrant existence
worth living for
theyβre my american dream wrapped up in burps, dark humor
and love
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

july, july, july
itβs the month where I lose my mind
the heat gets to me and turns up the BSC in me
you wonβt find me sweet and eager to please in July
you wonβt find me full of ruffles and flowery phrases
in poetry
youβll find me being a ball of immigrant rage and fury
youβll find me a woman whoβs had enough
of the American dream bullshit
and ready to roar and scream out everything wrong
with this country
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

as long as there is breath left in me
I will try
try to be a good mom to my kids
try to tell my story
try to love everyone the best way
i can
try to find understanding
for what happened to me
try to find joy in the most ordinary
of moments
try to dance my way through
my most depressive episodes
try find my inner peace and calm