What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?


What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?


I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

anything resembling love threatens the home Iβve built
over the past two years
and yet the romantic threads in me wonβt disappear
they want to weave another love story
they want to be pulled into the magic to getting know
someone new
and having arms to call home
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Dying Innocence
Temblaba con vergΓΌenza por la electricidad
que sentΓa entre sus piernas
serΓa esto la maldad del cual las monjas
que le habΓan advertido
estaba desesperado por parar
pero no podΓa
seria que acabarΓa quemΓ‘ndose en el infierno
por ser adicta al placer que sentΓa
cada vez que se entregaba a Γ©l
una caricia de Γ©l y ella
se convierte de santa a pecadora
here’s the English version of this poem:
poetry: short circuit
tuvimos un cortocircuito
y nuestro lucero de amor
se apago
ni siquiera queda una chispa
de la pasiΓ³n que alguna vez
compartimos
y me pregunto una vez mΓ‘s-
ΒΏSerΓ‘ que para mi, el amor
Siempre serΓ‘ algo como agua
que se escapa de mis manos?
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

complaints about the Barbie movie appear
only from the privileged white men on my timeline
and I shouldn’t be surprised
even if those men call themselves allies or feminist
it speaks volumes to me that they voice their opinion at all
about it and decide to post their sexist bullshit
and maybe this is coming from a middle-aged woman whoβs crazy
but itβs hard to see that in this instance
Why men canβt stay in the backseat and allow women to shine brightly
without the patriarchy trying to dim their light
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

this time when I plant my garden of love
it will be a solo project
filled with seeds of only me
Seeds of my grief, seeds of my joy
Seeds of my sadness, seeds on my anger
Seeds of inspiration and it will bloom
into flowers of self worth
trees of empowerment
and plants of self love
this time when I till my garden
I wonβt allow anyone to distract me
This time when I maintain my garden
Iβll water it with the essence of myself
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

I collect crushes like little boys collect pokemon cards
Iβm addicted to the potential of love
without doing anything about it
except to occasionally test their waters
Nonchalantly sliding into their DMs
And posting a thirst trap selfie
and celebrating with a love song
when one of them likes it
or comments on it
hoping one of them sees past my salty poetry
hoping one of them is brave enough
to ask me out for coffee
and wants to get to know the real me
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

I hold my head up high now
no matter what happens
I will never allow anyone
to ever again dim or extinguish my light
I now understand the magic I hold within
and how it can be intimidating
to some people who canβt understand it
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

The romantic in me riots and protests and says
this solitary confinement is bullshit
Itβs been over a year since weβve been intimate
with anyone
or felt a romantic connection
and I try to reason with her
βWeβre still healing
and we like to stay emotionally regulated
and healthyβ
and she yells, βno itβs time to take all
of our therapy skills out for test drive
and find someone we vibe withβ
And I answer, βbut weβre notβ
And she screams, βstop with your excuses
go find the next muse of our poetry”
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

Trust in love is a concept lost to me
I canβt imagine giving my heart to anyone else
I canβt imagine being vulnerable with anyone else
and itβs insanity to keep allowing myself to trust and love
when all I do is lose, lose, lose
I donβt know how to cope when a love song stops
while Iβm still dancing
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

the tragedy of my anxiety is that I overthink things
until I sabotage everything
and while I’ve worked on this for a couple of years
I still have problems when good things happen to me
Itβs the demon of insecurity coming back to fuck with me
who wants me to fulfill my self fulfilling prophecy of defeat
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

When I fall in love, I lose control, and I lose my power
and itβs painful
because now I have someone to lose
and I donβt deal with loss very well ever
and suddenly Iβm all about them, them, them
be understanding, be sweet, be accepting
Be everything
Iβll go to the depths of hell and back for them
but most of the time, they wonβt even cross the street for me