poetry: moon goddess

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

always thankful for Mama Killa

The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity
as I drink too much
as I search for someone’s touch
the moon sends the Goddess
with a message of awareness
and I wake up from my trance of self destruction
and start an inner healing revolution
my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified
it was my judgment gone awry
and I try respect and worth on for size
my beauty is not all there is to me
I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity
never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy

poetry: modesty

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me in September of 2022 before boarding a plane to Lima

my mother tells me to dress modestly
no loud lipstick, short skirts,tight or revealing clothing
I represent my family and currency in my country
is prestige and social status-
so I need to dress like the hija del ingeniero-
it’s the remnants my parents hold on to from their former lives
so I’ll put on my mask of señora de la sociedad
pretend I care about trivial things
mask my true identity of being a socialist, a feminist, and a crazy bitch
It’s the least I can do for the people who sacrificed themselves
for a better life for me

Poetry: experiment

What curse to be a lovergirl 😭

The experiment of life leaves me breathless with rage
Why keep trying love on over and over again
when it continually abandons me
It’s like a balloon
I’m filled up with joy and happiness
and then there’s life’s pin of reality
makes my balloon burst
and I’m reduced to nothingness until I find rage
to fuel me to move forward
it’s exhausting, it’s madness

Poetry: mistress

I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress
and failed every single time
I need to be the main character in my lover’s story
and not relegated to a dirty secret
the side chick that’s good enough to fuck
but not good enough for a relationship status
my love is immense and beautiful
and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it
I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy
I’m royalty and will treated as such

Poetry: My Love Costs All the Pretty Things

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

goals -in my fur coat

Give me a man who will buy me everything
and I will accommodate to him-
Because unlike JLo my love costs all the pretty things
dresses, jewelry, vacations in the caribbean
give it all to me and you can be my king
because if I’m going to be treated like shit by a man
in a relationship, at least let it be on a cruise ship

poetry: not sure

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

me when I wrote this poem

I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I Do
but I know what happens when I don’t
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
I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I do
but I’ll continue to do so until my body shuts down
who cares if my hip is broken and I hardly have
any time to myself
I’d rather work myself to the bone than to allow
my family to fall again into being victims of poverty

poetry: today

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

we had the same vibe

it wasn’t until today I realized how ordinary you really were
It wasn’t 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

Poetry: So Pretty

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

Two teachers who saved me

What makes a teacher great?

As I’m thinking about this answer, two teachers come to mind. One is my 11th Grade English Mrs.Idica and the other is my college professor of creative writing, Dr.Blais.

Who knows what would have happened to these two if it wasn’t for Mrs.Idica 😭😭😭

I took Mrs.Idica’s Asian American Lit and Creative Writing class my junior year of high school. I did really well in my creative writing class but almost flunked the Asian American lit class. I remember not liking her too much at first because she pushed us to do our best and was strict. I think I did well in the creative writing class because I really loved writing poems and little short stories.  At the time, I didn’t think it was something I’d ever be passionate about but of course the class did have a great impact on me, here’s a poem I wrote in that class:

Poetry: That Night

Mrs.Idica ended up being my homebound teacher when I was on maternity leave with my first son at the beginning of my senior year.  That meant that for 6 weeks, she came to my house to give me my school assignments and helped me with them if I needed help. She would stay and talk to me and always encouraged me to drop out of high school and to continue on. This was important for me to hear as there was pressure from people in my family to drop out and work.  She could have easily just dropped off my work and not have these conversations with me but instead she showed up with the compassion and grace I needed during a really dark time in my life. She also had the patience of the saint as I trudge through my school assignments since I was an terrible student. She never gave up on me or told me my life was ruined because I had a child at such a young age. In fact, she was one of the few people who didn’t shame me and reminded me my child was a gift. The encouragement from her and her belief in me really made a difference in my life. I don’t believe I would have put so much effort that last year in high school and graduated on time. I think what made her not just a great but exceptional teacher was that she was caring, had the patience of a saint, and was this light of compassion and encouragement for me when I needed it. This is a poem I wrote about her:

poetry: saint tracey

I also want to say that I’m still in touch with her through social media where I share updates about my life and my writing. Even now, she tells me she’s proud of me and that means a lot to me.

Right after taking Dr.Blais class

Another teacher in my life who was exceptional was my creative writing professor Dr. Blais. Like Mrs.Idica, she pushed us to do our best in the class and provided a safe space for us to express ourselves creatively.I also learned to be super disciplined with my writing in her class and the editing process. She was very patient with us and in her class I wrote 3 plays and both of them won 2nd and 3rd place in the college writing competition which meant a lot to me since it was the first time I was writing plays. She also encouraged me to continue writing and even invited me to one of her playwright workshop groups but I couldn’t go due to family obligations. Also, her class was my favorite escape from my busy mom life that included 2 small kids and 3 part time jobs at the time. It was a crazy time in my life where my mental health was a bit touch and go but going to Dr.Blais class helped me cope. Like, Mrs.Idica,  Dr.Blais saw potential in me and encouraged me and was incredibly patient in kneading the writer out of me. I think taking her class validated my passion for writing. Especially when the last assignment was making a book which I titled “My Quarter Life Crises” . I felt accomplished in making that little book of my poems and plays. Here’s a link to one of the plays I wrote in her class:

Play: Choices

Unfortunately, I lost touch with my Dr.Blais after college and can’t seem to find her anywhere.  Last I heard is that she’s had success as a playwright in New York.

I think I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have had two educators show up in my life who made a positive impact on effect. It doesn’t always happen that way (thinking about my super condescending English professor at UGA- but that’s another blog post) . It’s hard to imagine who I would have become without both of them.

Me at another poetry event

poetry: I will try

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

always determined to keep going

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

poetry: seasons change

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

you’ve change from spring to autumn within moments
never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve
never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism
I’ve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background

poetry: participation trophy

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

me reading my poem “taco bell”

my exes should all get a participation trophy
for dating me, for marrying me,
for putting up my madness
for becoming muses of my poetry
unwillingly, unintentionally
for surviving the rollercoaster
that is me

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