Poetry: New Year’s Day 2022

I wrote this on New Year’s Day of 2022.

Another new year, and there are no resolutions
Another new year and no better or new me
Another new year, and I’ll keep my expectations low
With a cautious dose of faith and hope
I want a year full of peace and calm
Where love for myself continues to be enough
Writing, running, and working fill up my time
Another new year and loneliness is not eating me up
and freedom feels like solitude
and this vacation from dating feels heavenly
and music and books are all of the pleasure I need
Another new year, and I just want to continue this journey
of healing from the past and self-discovery
It’s another new year, and for once, I have everything
I want in life

poetry: is this it?

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

me manifesting hard for this moment

found love where I least expected it
and when it happened
it felt like an earthquake where the ground
broke from under me
it felt like all of the hurt and pain experienced
before had been worth it
for the one waiting in the wings for me
as he sits by me and reassures me
when the world feels chaotic and overwhelming
He tells me I’m one of the best things
that happened to him
and has never made me feel less
or like a burden to him
and all of it still feels so strange to me
is this really happening to me?
or is it all a dream?
and I finally at the end of my marathon of lust and love
I have been running since the age of 15

Poetry: Petty Pouts

I wrote this in December of 2021.

I want to find my way to forgiveness
instead I’m covered in hate
I want to find my way to kindness
instead of being stuck in this
cage of anger and rage
I want true radical acceptance
instead of being a victim to my
black and white thinking
I want to be full of Zen
Instead of being full of insecurity
I want a stable sense of identity
instead of this constant confusion about who I am
I want to write about happiness and joy
instead of filling up my pages with petty pouts

poetry: left behind

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

I used to find it romantic and endearing how in Hollywood stories
the protagonists triumphs over insurmountable obstacles
to find their happy endings
until I notice there’s always a third party who’s left behind
a third party who’s expendable and the cost
of the happy ending the protagonist are granted
it makes me wretched with empathy and feel grief for them
because too often, I’ve known what it’s like to be left
for someone prettier, shinier, easier, MORE EXCITING
and I wonder if it’s time to write stories about them
the third parties left behind who didn’t make the cut
in their lover’s love story

poetry: Luigi

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

me being completely delulu

ceo assassin come find me, I bet you’re a crazy communist who can match my bpd and bipolar energy
you leave me breathless with an insatiable sexual hunger to make magic between my sheets
ceo assassin come find me, let’s run away together from this capitalistic bullshit society
and form our own version of utopia
one where universal healthcare is a real thing, one where no one has to work 60 hour weeks to make ends meet, one where we are working to live and not living to work
ceo assassin come find me, I don’t care that you’re on the most wanted list,
I don’t care that they call you a murderous psychopath
all I can see in front of me is divine masculinity and bravery who’s fucking tired
of the trickle down economics false narrative this consumerist society conditions us to believe
and i, more than other people understand you perfectly
I can’t recall how many times I, too have found myself in a murderous rage wanting to turn
to violence to make my working class anger heard and seen to send a message
to the haves and the heathers, karens, chads, and brads of the world
fuck you and your vacations, your teslas, and your brand name clothing while the rest of us
have to settle for crumbs of the American Dream
ceo assassin come find me, between your anger and mine combined, it could be the match
that ignites an entire revolution not just against those who deny our insurance claims
but also going against the 1 percent who deny us the freedom to just exist without worrying
about how to make it in this consumeristic society and parasitic world without going crazy

poetry: damaged

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

your boundaries are clear as spring water
I heard them between the gaps of silence
in our texts
you don’t want to encourage any attention from me
or send mixed messages
so instead, you don’t answer or initiate any conversations
and I don’t blame you for this-
After all, I am batshit crazy, I wouldn’t date me either
so I will no longer bother you
I’ll leave you alone
respect the professional boundaries and walls
you have erected
Take this as another sign from the universe
I’m still too damaged for another chance at love

poetry: shipwrecks

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

Like shipwrecks in a cavern, somehow we came together
putting bandaids of lust to sooth and cover our loneliness
causing chaos and rejecting each other
only to always come back to each other
and it was entertaining for a while
until we both realized it was a waste of time and energy
and fled to different caverns

poetry: I dreamt of you last night

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I called you my mr.wrong for a long time and hated myself for loving you-
I knew we weren’t heading anywhere-
you were the complete opposite of me
but connection and chemistry kept me returning to you
Even though I knew one day we’d end
and one day came when we both got sick of our constant toxicity
and shut down our whatevership
And while I know it was for the best and we never wanted the same things-
last night I dreamed of you coming to my house
and sneaking into my bed
And I wonder if part of my subconscious still misses you

poesía: condesita

escribí este poema en diciembre del 2024.

me at age 9

magneto y locomía sale de la tele
mi tío me llamaba su condesita y mi tía me llamaba linda
y me río porque últimamente me siento como una extraña en mi cuerpo
y mami y sus hermanas me dicen que me estoy volviendo una señorita
pero lo único que veo es un monstruo fea y gorda en el espejo
y quisiera ser delgadita y fina como mis primas
pero por lo menos mi tío y mi tía no me miran así
me miran como un tesoro bello y valioso

poetry: my muse

I wrote this poem in December of 2021

I met him outside on a hot July night
he was everything I was not looking for
but it was a devastatingly short fall
and then I was lost in him
and everything I wanted him to be
It wasn’t fair to him or I
expectations that were sky high
with him I wanted everything
but he wasn’t ready to be my love king
Perhaps he was just a preview
for a future love dream come true

poetry: the muse

I wrote this poem in December of 2020.

The words, the phrases, the sentences seep from me
when I think of you, my muse

Words of hate, words of love,
Words of devastation, words of lust

You inspire everything that is great,
You inspire everything that I hate

Spilled phrases about my desire for you
and my disgust for you fills pages of my journal

I hate him, I love him, I can’t live without him
Phrases that bleed from my our toxic love af

poetry: tomorrow

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

happy Heather Day

radical self compassion and grace falls from my life
as thoughts of crashing my car unintentionally come to the surface of my mind
but this happens every year in early december
the old me from 2016 still wants to be heard and seen
the trauma from her is visiting me mixed with winter and PMDD
and lack of sleep makes me feel incompetent and unworthy of existing
but I resist and resist thoughts of self harm and despair
there is still too much life left in me and besides it’s one bad day out of many
Tomorrow, tomorrow, is another day, another sunrise, another sunset
another brand new beginning

poetry: regret

I wrote this poem in December of 2019.

I see your face in my mind
and all I feel is your regret
for the time wasted on you

Regret
for sharing my vulnerability with you

Regret
For the tears that you never deserved

Regret
For the energy I put into us

Regret
That I ignored your red flags

Regret
For the fucks I can’t take back

Regret
For memories I can’t erase

Regret
For wasting my love
on a waste of space human being

below is the Spanish Translation