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poetry: prima Jessica

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

me and cousin Jessica in the 80s

compassion and hope appear in a phone call from my prima
right before I give in to my hate and anger
right before I let my rage control me and make it into a weapon
of destruction
she reminds me that this is not who I am and to choose forgiveness
and empathy for those who hurts us for they don’t know what they do
and I wonder if it was an intervention from God, the universe,
reminding me that revenge and the wrath of my anger is not the answer
and instead I should look to love and wisdom passed down from my ancestors
for the confusion and frustration turned into rage that lies within me

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poetry: under siege

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

my beloved LA is under siege
the place that saw my immigrant child self grow,
and learn English
the place my parents decided to make their new home
the place with tastiest hot dogs at culver city mall

my beloved LA is under siege
and all I can do is watch the carnage be livestreamed
and I’m transported once again to the L.A riots in 1992
when I was 11 and violence and madness
was a stone’s throw away from our small apartment
while mami pretends nothing’s happening
as she cooks dinner
and we’re all glued to the TV

my beloved LA is under siege
and I couldn’t be prouder of my people standing loud
and with a firm grip of love and justice
for the most vulnerable of us
whose only crime was to come this country
in search for a better life

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poetry: Closing the Door

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

closing the door to love is filling up every moment I’m awake
with work,therapy, my kids activities, time with friends,
Exercise, facing fears, writing, writing, and more writing
because I want to be so busy I don’t have time to think-
to think about romance, to think about what could have been
to think about how nice it is to have someone
so instead, I fill up every second of my life
with everything that fuels my growth
so I don’t have time to think about this love nonsense

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poesía: mi libertad

escribí este poema en junio del 2022.

Después de ti, llego mi libertad
porque me liberé de mi propio juzgamiento
porque me libere de pensar que solo podía
encontrar el amor en los brazos de un hombre
porque me libere de ser una princesa sumisa
que daria todo por tenerte a ti
y ahora que tengo mi libertad
por fin tengo mi felicidad

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poetry: not in the mood

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

not feeling romantic lately as my community is torn apart
and cruelty is served to them by this administration with no end date
as I watch America’s Gestapo treat my people as worse than animals
but somehow I’m suppose to block this all out
and reply to your sext about all the ways I want you
to ravage me

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Poetry: Watch How Quickly I Fall

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

me in June of 2022

put me on a pedestal and watch how quickly I fall
for saying no to you
For standing up for myself
for making myself heard
You’ll cry foul and wonder, where did my dream girl go?
but don’t you see-
I wasn’t made for altars and pedestals
I was made for thrones
A throne where I know my worth
A throne where I’m valued
A throne where I’m appreciated as a whole person
and not just seen as an object as affection and masturbation
So quit seeing me as a saint or angel
and understand I’m a chaotic queen

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Poetry: Mosquito

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

consent is honesty and respect
it doesn’t matter how many time I’ve kissed you
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve slept with you
Always ask me if I’m okay with whatever you wanna do
Instead of pressuring me, instead of harassing me
with your supposed admiration for me
with your stupid pet names for me
I’m not dear, hottie, beautiful, girl or princess
Call me by my god given name
and maybe then I would take you seriously
instead of ignoring you, pretending you’re a mosquito
Impossible to get rid off

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poetry: maybe I’m the problem

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

I try to banish the clouds of doubts and insecurities in me
everytime I’m in love, I get like this
everytime I start to feel comfortable in a new sanctuary
I start to question
if i’m worthy, if i’m deserving
is it possible that really, I’m the problem
and the one who sabotages everything

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Poetry: Blanket of Lies

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

Cover me with a blanket of lies and tell me you love me
tell me I’m the only one for you
and false promises about you’ll never leave
and how you’re not like the other guys
Love me at your convenience, love me when I’m easy
I’ll believe the fantasy and play my role
of the perfect and polite princess
until one day, I grow out of my role and explode
and I’ll discover once again
you’re like everyone else
who can only stand me for a short while
and accuse me of being a crazy bitch and leave

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poetry: unfriended

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

putting in bold letters I support ICE in your facebook profile pic
I quickly unfriended yours and your husband’s joint facebook account
the one created after he stepped out on you
and karma was served to you for being a homewrecker
several years ago
the one created to keep tabs on him so he wouldn’t do it again
and as I write this, I almost laugh hysterically
because of course it makes sense that you support Trump, ICE,
and everyone who wants to destroy and rips rights away from everyone
who’s not white and straight
After all, didn’t you yourself tear a family apart?
so it makes perfect sense
also I always wondered who the other woman was
from your hateful vitriol of immigrants and latinas
she must be one hell of a Latina who almost took your man

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poetry: stain

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

I’ll leave an emotional stain on your life that will be hard to get rid of
You’ll curse the day I was born
You’ll regret the day you ever meet me
because I demand respect, because I’ll never be your safe place
because I’ll say “no” to being relegated to the role of mistress
and you’ll accuse me of being crazy and narcissist
just because I wanted to be treated with dignity
just because I want to be seen as more than another girl to pass the time with

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poetry: harassment

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

once my boundaries are crossed, I CUT YOU OUT LIKE TAGS ON MY CLOTHING (like the great Conan Gray said)

it’s not romance, it’s harassment
placing me on your dream girl altar
and telling me about your boner
Even after I  told you no
But then you still threw me your delusional love
and when I was honest right away
and I told you “I’m sorry but no”
somehow now I’m a crazy bitch,
a stranger
who’s letting her mental illness talk for her
after calling out your misogynistic behavior
All I said was no to you and the insults come on cue
I warned you, didn’t I and now foul, you cry
I told you I wasn’t ready for what you had to offer
but you kept playing the part of my great admirer
and maybe I’m fucked up in the head
but your fantasies I needed to behead
I needed to keep myself safe from men like you
who try to bully me into loving them
into giving in because your endless attention
and compliments
haven’t you read my story?
I’m not no longer a woman who bends and bends
to man’s thirst for me

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poetry: warzone

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

you can go your own way-fleetwood mac

I’ve walked through the warzone of my love life long enough to know
when a bomb is about to explode (when I fall of some guy’s dream girl altar)
It’s a minefield full of suppressed feelings
consequences of accommodating to a man’s ego
And I’ll tread ever so carefully
I don’t want to be alone, I just want to be loved,
I’ll bend and bend until you call me Gumby
Except I’m not and then I’ll snap and another bomb will go off
“You’re crazy,” you’re dangerous” “ I don’t recognize you”
all for expressing my feelings and wanting respect and dignity

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poetry: pink haze

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

floating in a neon pink haze , the afterlife awaits
no more suffering, no more mental health crisis
no more dark doses of reality
this could be lovely and nice
but I’m pushed out by forces beyond my control
wake up in a fog
my soul’s purpose has not been fulfilled
I must continue telling my story

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Poetry: Homework

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

me after walking/running in the rain

In therapy I’m supposed to write about the last thing that cause me grief
and I think it’s funny considering the tons of poetry and journal entries
I’ve written about it
I’m tired of writing about it, I’m tired of talking about it
I’m tired of thinking about it
and I want to tell my therapist I don’t have homework for this week
but this is part of therapy
this is what I need to address the unhealed trauma within
so I’ll write for the 1000th time about the last thing that caused trauma and grief
hoping my therapist will provide valuable insight on how to let go of it