I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I don’t want to work that extra shift but my discover statement
tells me otherwise-
it tells me that once again I’m falling into a world of debt-
for daring to live a life above my means, above my class
and if I’m not careful I can slip back into poverty status
so I’ll work that extra shift and stop trying to live
a higher class life that’s not meant for me yet-
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
and the roses never wilted,
they just transformed into flowers
never seen before
for a while it looked like they were dying
as they slowly turned gray and then black
but then they bloomed into something different,
a unique kind of beautiful
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
mami cocoons me in her warmth, holds me carefully so I don’t break
I’m her porcelain baby doll
she nurses me back to health with devotion and dedication
I’m a gift from the heavens-
an unexpected surprise sent to complete our family
and she doesn’t care if I came slightly damaged
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
the shelf of my bookcase breaks, and my poetry notebooks fall
every single one of my love stories scattered on the floor
Failure after failure
Were any of them worth the effort?
Was the experience worth the suffering?
Maybe it was for the inspiration behind my prose and poetry
and the growth I’ve had
Still, that doesn’t seem like an adequate answer
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Let’s go to war with ourselves
and speak our truth and heal unprocessed trauma within
and face our fear and insecurities
we’ll walk out with confidence and feel empowered
We’ll leave with versions of ourselves ready
to reach our full potential and ready to love
escribí este poema en agosto del 2022.
El dilema de darte mi amor
me causa ansiedad e insomnia
como se que no seras otro error
otro príncipe azul falso
que me quiere hasta que se harte de mi
como se que de nuevo no acabaré
con mi corazón en pedazos
por lo que no pudo ser
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
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
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Sex is a work of art if you are in love-
Two bodies entwined in a collaborative rhythm
Two bodies matching energies that derive
a great pleasure
It presents a beautiful picture of ecstasy
Anything else is just a mediocre sketch
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
love makes me feel trapped
trapped in a cage of desire and emotions
I want to escape from
but still delude myself into thinking
it will be different this time, except it never is
so I’m giving up for a while-
Giving myself time to prepare for my next victim
I wrote this poem in August of 2020.
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
escribí este poema en junio de 2022.
Te dije que no estaba preparada
pero no me quisistes escuchar
Y insististe, insististe que yo era la única para ti
que tu me amabas
nunca me preguntastes sobre mi comodidad
nunca me preguntaste si estaba bien
mandarme piropos y fotos sensuales
Y cuando te pedí respecto a mi persona
me acusaste de ser otra loca más
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
What is something you wish you could tell your 20-year-old self?
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Once again I’m thrown off the pedestal for standing up for myself
for wanting respect
I’m accused of being a stranger and crazy
My response is :
I did warn you, I did tell you
I have no space in my life for you, I was never looking for romance
I never asked for your love, and now i’m the villain
and you’re another victim
a victim who love bombed me over and over again
a victim who harassed me with unsolicited dick videos and pics
who never asked for my consent and forced himself into my world
Sorry for not being the girl of your dreams
but I’m also sorry for any ounce of my energy I was pressured to invest in you
maybe now you’ll leave me alone
and maybe even one day, you’ll learn to ask for consent
and perhaps even learn to treat women with respect
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
