I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
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
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
last time I saw her, she was on her 5th husband
she didn’t know how to be alone, stand up on her own
always needed a man by her side
and even as she aged and her looks waned
she had her aryan blonde blue eyed looks to get her by
it was a crystalized existence
something about her frozen in time
someone had never taught her that alone
she was enough
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
and the roses never wilted,
they just transformed into flowers
never seen before
for a while it looked like they were dying
as they slowly turned gray and then black
but then they bloomed into something different,
a unique kind of beautiful
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
gratitude taste like mami’s sopa de pollo
gratitude smells like my lover’s cologne
gratitude feels like a warm hug from my son
gratitude sounds like my sister’s car in my driveway
gratitude looks like me looking at the Goddess in the mirror
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I planted my feet on the soil I was born on
until I breathed the air my parents and ancestors inhaled
until I tasted flavors from almost a lifetime ago
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I returned to my homeland
and it was the piece of the puzzle found
I needed to finally complete me
I wrote this poem in September in 2022.
without a care in the world-we danced in the rain
enjoying the last vestiges of childhood
feeling the wet ground against our feet
stomping and laughing
and enjoying the miracle of this moment
as it rained in paradise
I wrote this poem in September of 2021.
I long to run free in a world free from prejudice and pride
I long to run free in a world free from judgment and ignorance
I long to run free in a world that accepts people like me
I long to run free in a world where I’m not hypervigilant
about toning myself down
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they 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.
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
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
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
Sometimes the poem just writes itself
without asking me what I want
the rage, the grief,over what this world
is becoming seeps out of my pen
and stains the paper I wanted to write
a love poem on
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
I believe a good poem
will move you in such a way
it will evoke some emotion in you
I believe a great poem
will rip you apart, punch you in the gut
and render you completely speechless
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
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
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
I breathe grief in, I exhale grief out
my pain needs a way out
because despair and sorrow fill up my lungs
and anger sits at the bottom of my stomach
and I’m tired of living like this
a life full of emotional intensity
And supposedly there’s a cure for it
with therapy and radical acceptance
but how do I accept that every man
who’s ever professed his love to me
always leaves
Will my romantic misfortune one day end?
or am I destined to repeat the same story
of abandonment
over and over again?
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Let’s go to war with ourselves
and speak our truth and heal unprocessed trauma within
and face our fear and insecurities
we’ll walk out with confidence and feel empowered
We’ll leave with versions of ourselves ready
to reach our full potential and ready to love
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
I need to head back to the gym before my algorithm notices
and starts sending me ads about BBLs and Ozempic
I need to head back to the gym and make it part of my weekly routine
instead of constantly standing still
I need to head back to the gym, I need those endorphins now more
than ever as another financial crises looms over me
and I don’t know how to get under it
give me 45 minutes at the gym to clear my head
strategize about my next to make sure my family
doesn’t fall into poverty
