I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
in the dark shadows of the earth
lies the outliers and outcasts
the ones we many times ignore
or only talk about in quiet whispers
we pity them, we’re afraid of them, we avoid them
we don’t want to catch their disease of poverty or insanity
we don’t know how to see their humanity
and honestly it makes us, and not them, the real monsters
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
for a brief moment, everything felt perfect
your hand on the steering wheel
another hand on my thigh, a taylor swift song
blasting from the radio
it felt like anything was possible
and this was my moment of ultimate redemption
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
let’s take a midnight flight to Tokyo and get lost in Japan
like that Shawn Mendes song
let’s eat great sushi if there is such a thing
and pretend we’re 15 again
and so free spirited and carefree
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
the sun sets and the sky turns pink
and you take my hand and tell me
I’m all you’ve ever wanted
And I’m overwhelmed by your grand gesture
of love and have the urge to walk away
but instead I stay
thinking maybe this time it will different
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
my heart sings a bilingual song in imperfect castellano
and a fluent English
entre carcajadas y calor de mi comunidad de Athens
between my few childhood memories of Lima
entre las risas de mis hijos
between my parents many sacrifices
entre Wham y Slyvia Plath
between Bad Bunny and Gustavo Becquer
llevo América en mi corazón
I carry Peru in my veins
canto esta cancion con amor y dolor
I sing this song with love and pain
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
once again the united states of white supremacy throws another wrench at my community
making it more of a crime to exist as we are
trying to erase our culture, trying to shame us for our heritage
trying to force us into assimilation by any means possible
trying to target us for simply not fitting into their idea of what America
should look and sound like
and I stand up in defiance and say, a mi me vale madre pendejos
estoy que desde 1986, sembrando raíces en California, Hawaii y Georgia
y me quedaré aquí como su peor pesadilla
una mujer latina, criada y educada en este país
que no se dejara llevar por la marginación y racismo constante
de esta administración
y que luchará hasta el último respiro por quedarse aquí
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must make the best of our todays-
creating community with our friends, reconnecting with our roots
loving our children with a loud fervor
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must appreciate
everything we have
the legs that take us on walks and runs
the creativity that flows from our minds
the laughter shared with loved ones
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
one day I’ll go on tour promoting my poetry book
and the crowd will stand up for me and applaud
and the crowd will say they’ve never been anyone like me
and I’ll be celebrated for the great storyteller that I am
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
gratitude taste like mami’s sopa de pollo
gratitude smells like my lover’s cologne
gratitude feels like a warm hug from my son
gratitude sounds like my sister’s car in my driveway
gratitude looks like me looking at the Goddess in the mirror
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I planted my feet on the soil I was born on
until I breathed the air my parents and ancestors inhaled
until I tasted flavors from almost a lifetime ago
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I returned to my homeland
and it was the piece of the puzzle found
I needed to finally complete me
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
karma bit me and now I’m paying for all of my emotional crimes
now I’m met with silence and indifference
and I go and examine what was the final straw
which post led you over the ledge
from friendship to being acquaintances once again
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow. **This poem went through heavy edits in June of 2026.
Tell me I’m beautiful, tell me I’m sexy
Objectify me, sleep with me
breadcrumb me, ghost me,
then try to come back to me
And when I deny you
insult me, threaten me,try your best to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first but will be the last
who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first but will be the last
who treats me like your on call whore
You’re not the first but will be the last
who tells me I’m not good enough
and after all that, try to come back again
and
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry, tell me you LOVE ME
Be persistent in your quest in trying to bed me with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
and how we have history
so I can laugh and laugh and turn you down
and watch you sulk
honey, I know you watch me on social media
so you should know better than to ever come back to me
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
september , september, september
please be calmer, please be kinder
please bring an air of prosperity
so I can dig myself out of the financial hole
I’ve found myself in
please allow me some time to breathe, rest,
and reset
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My jealousy is green and monstrous-
Its big and dramatic
It’s almost epic and i’m like dammit
I wish I wasn’t like this
but maybe it’s time to accept it
it’s not that I’m toxic
Or that something is wrong with me
I just need a lover who only has eyes for me,
who doesn’t think about other options
when he’s with me
who’s so obsessed with me,
I’m like the air he needs to breathe
in order to live
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
touch me in such a way that I can’t get enough of you
stimulate all of my five senses until I lose myself completely
make forget how I promised myself never to fall in love again
make me yours with a passion that makes me
break my vow of celibacy for good reason
