poetry: romantic misfortune

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

so relatable

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?

poetry: consequences

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

for real for real….

the consequences of being a hopeless romantic outweigh any rewards
everytime I start to believe in love it never works out
Everytime I start to believe in love it ends up in chaos and destruction
and i try and try again only always to have the same ending
and after 26 years of doing this-I don’t have it in me
to endure another love failure
someone who appears sure of me-only for them to change their mind
about me on a whim
the consequences of being a hopeless romantic has filled a dozen
notebooks and journals with sorrow and grief

poetry: playground

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

look but don’t come near me

My bra is the milkshake that brings men to my playground
It gives me the cleavage that makes them feel like they’re in love
They’ll claim it’s my words or my eyes they’re in love with , but let’s not kid ourselves
It’s really my majestic breasts that pop out with their own personalities
they fuel their many exotic and erotic fantasies

poetry: TBH

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

heartbreak brings up raging hello kitty energy…hahaha

My love data tells me I shouldn’t try again because every time
I crash and burn and cause trauma and drama
because every time it ends, I get hateful and want revenge
and While I do appreciate the poetry that comes
after every broken relationship
I don’t think I can withstand the heartbreak and devastation
the next time it ends

poetry: IHOP

I wrote this poem in August of 2020.

this was the best AI generated Art could do…idk,,lol

I met you on a cold January night at the IHOP
across your apartment complex
As I was eating up my loneliness
with scrambled eggs and coffee
I hoped you couldn’t see remnants
of tears that had fallen before you came
and you sat across from me
and as we awkwardly made conversation
I wondered if you would be the one
to breathe new life into my almost dead existence
I wondered if your kiss would help me
reignite a fire of desire, would remind me
I’m more than a wife and mother
But most of all I wondered if maybe, just maybe
someone would finally love me

poetry: twice

I wrote this poem in July of 2025.

The world has ended for me more times than I care to remember,
more time than I care to count
something about my soul being too sensitive for this world
something about desperation and frustration embedded in me
since I was a little kid
every slight, every roll of the eyes feels like an earthquake inside
everything is intensified twice

poetry: this song era

I wrote this poem in July of 2025.

People watching days are over, this Song era is now my reality
no more longing or yearning over what could have been
or what I once upon a time wanted it to be
instead I focus on the genuine and loving connection in front of me
the one who’s not afraid of the creative beast who resides in me
and makes me feel heard and seen
even if sometimes that seems cringe or weird
Especially after I admitted I had watched him while he slept
this time he allows me to him without flinching
when I tell him he’s the new muse of my poetry
and he’s brave enough to share his feelings without shame
and reminds me of all the things he likes about me
the one who feels like my sanctuary to lay my love and poetry in

poetry: sins

I wrote this poem in July of 2025.

sometimes I think my sins are the most interesting things about me
Perhaps, that’s why I worship them and keep making poems out of them
Especially when I start to lose faith in myself
especially when I start lose faith in myself and the universe
and fill myself up with self hate and self loathing to crash out fantastically
with pen and paper and write masterpieces

poetry: kam highway

I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

Kam Highway would see many changes in our family
three teenagers in one house, our parents were saints
at first we lived in abject poverty
trying to find change in the secondhand couch
for ramen or popcorn chicken or anything
to put food in our tummies
this apartment saw the awkwardness of my adolescence
saw my brother almost fall into the wrong crowd
saw my sister fall in and out of love
until she finally landed her first husband next door
and we had a pizzeria next door and also the interesting neighbors
like the marine next door who beat his unfaithful wife
or Tipper the stripper who was in a toxic relationship with the landlord’s son
their song was Kiss and Say Goodbye by the Manhattans
and the fun thanksgivings with all of the neighbors

poetry: Melrose Place

I wrote this poem in July of 2025.

my childhood was not easy and at times full of chaos
good to inspire my creativity, one where I never needed
much imagination
since real life served up a lot of telenovela energy
from toxic family dynamics to immigrant trauma
to the ghetto melrose place in hawaii
my childhood felt like a constant barrage of episodes
where the adults couldn’t keep it together

poetry: humble beginnings

I wrote this poem in July of 2025.

My humble beginnings make men want to play savior with me
as I tell them about my childhood drenched in poverty and chaos
they try to act like white knights trying to rescue from the cinderella trauma
I suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to protect me
but what they understand is that it’s not how they will earn my heart
because all I want is to be heard, to bee seen as an equal
and not a poor victim of my tragic life circumstances

poetry: resistance

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

Hold onto joy and magic in times like these
pause, breathe, drink water
Remember your existence is resistance
all of that pain, sorrow and grief felt in your body
Alchemized it into poetry, art,a story
or you could just scream and allow it to exist
understand that the oppressors want to overwhelm you
And make you crazy and over react
using it as an excuse to frame you as the enemy
protect your peace at all costs
if someone threatens it, it’s a sign they’ve
handed you a match to light up
and burn their bridge to you
and finally,
Remember, the distress, the exhaustion is intentional
to burn out your light
Don’t let them