I take pride in my roots
I take pride in my melanin
And my ancestors
All those who have persevered
To get me to where I am today.
I take pride en mi pelo rizo
Gracias a Dios..

I carry my culture in my curls to
The poetry that runs through my
Veins
rushing
pulsing
sweat on the furrow of thy lip
beading
ache of the toil in their fieldwork
sweet
azucar negra
my ancestors blood was sweeter
they still don’t want us here
but some things never change
but we are able
and no beautiful ignorant person
Will ever take that away.

why do i feel like writing is the only proper
means of expression for myself?
why do i have trust issues?
i always need to look at people twice,
and still often because people themselves alter so much in a lifetime there is something new to be observed in them constantly
why does he keep coming back to me after all ive put him through?
the real reason...
why does he make my thoughts jump from admiration, to then love, to then thoughts of matrimony?
its a little odd honestly how i can come up with questions like these in a single moment.
but its what you wanted to hear.
you didnt want my pain and baggage to to be only on me
but on you too.
which is why you kept reading this.
these are thoughts that cross my mind when i feel unworthy of living
or just in a contemplative mood
even this silent violence makes my days quite somber
i cant put into words but yes
i do feel like i want to put the world on pause sometimes
and i know im not the only one that feels this way
so dont look at this poem like a fat kid looking at kale chips
that is why you see me
but sometimes
not there
sometimes quiet is violent

she loves him as much as a
jungle gym loves
children on a sunny spring afternoon..

and we went in your moms Honda
and i called you baby the whole way and
you loved it and
we spoke some deep ish for a while about the past rather than the future
we’re both afraid for what earth has in store for us
i reassured you that i have and always will love you
and then i touched a nerve
and you didn’t want to kiss me anymore

so i kinda just watched the moon past the hill
on a boulder
and looked at the city
as a couple ants started crawling up on one of my shoelaces



we both thought about how we could’ve been kissing already.
but we’re both somewhat stubborn so none of us brought it up.

so i walked down the stupid hill
as you played with your bracelet.

you risk tears if you let yourself be tamed
the fox say-ed
the little prince remained
for some time exchanged
names and soon gained
a friend.
the little prince changed
rather than stay the same
to train
the fox. it soon became
time however that he needed to explain
his plan of him going away.
the fox was deeply pained
yet maintained
his supportive claim.
the fox remained
and things stayed the same
yet both of their wishes are stained
of possibly being joined back together again

Her teeth as white as my mothers porcelain doll
and itty bitty *******
with a rear that was particularly
grandiose
it was unsettling
yet her tan lines were
extra crucial.
Her thighs
the type you could use
as earmuffs
year round.
She had ******* of a dancer
Petite yet fitting her stature.
i miss her golden brown eyes that'd
glisten
and even when i’d be looking into the sunset
her pupils would still dilate when
looking at me.

I was depressed when I stepped into the
L train
what was more visible though was my
anxiety from being a
bus-girl and not avidly riding
dingy.             rat-infested.           ***-reeking.     hobo-filled.
trains.

I sat right next to the most evil looking
character from a beloved Disney movie.
He asked me how my morning was going
as he held his coffee in his left hand and
a cigarette in the right.
breath reeking of sadness greater than mine.
such a New Yorker thing.

I told him about my friend moving away and how I was so sad I made my mom cry
And then he told me about how he was sad when his friend decided not to share a cardboard box with him..and I kinda just nodded
hoping he wasn’t serious.

train people are interesting so
in order for Joey- yes his name was Joey- to stop talking to me
I started to write about all the
sweetbitter things about the train
and if Joey just wanted to feel like he was relatable again..

its incredible how everyone views stars diffently
some who see the stars as the nightlights when the sun goes out
some who wish on the stars
some who dream about being that high like stars
some who hope to be stars someday
some who think they can count the stars
some who want to shut out the world and cry out against the stars
some who want to think that the stars are
pieces of heaven shinin' through in a world so cold and somber
those who know that theres more to our world past the stars
some who love to identify and track the stars
some who wish they can know where the stars came from to give praise to such wonderful creation
some who know where the stars and everything under it came from
some who have to give up on everything in their lives and are forced
to wallow about in the streets and give the stars names
some who are too busy to think about stars
some whove never really looked up from whats in front of them
but me
ill love them because theyll always be there for me
unlike these human beings

since when
did
sin
taste so
good my love..

i wrote a page worth of everything that has happened in the past 13 hours
and tears welled up in my eyes and
yknow the works
and so i got a lighter
lit that sucka on fire
as it slowly crumpled into grey fragile pieces
and after it was done

i stared at the ground
looking at the remains of my distressing situation.

i got up
turned around
and went back inside the house for some
cherry 7up.

i sit by the shore
with each tide that rolls in
soaking my jeans to the salty waters kiss
i look down at the wet sand that gets pulled to the center of the ocean
by the command of the moon and at least
it has an immovable sense of calmness
but again everything is relative
i take a step in
inviting myself
intruding peaceful ripples to ripples now tailored to fit around the circumference of each leg like pegs in a triangular shaped board at ******* barrel
i shove my fist into the ground and the granules scrape against my knuckles
that’ll sting later..impulsive..
just like we were..
past tense
but we’re grown now or at least we’re expected to be

i take a step further in
i reached for a handful of the wet sand and
smudged it onto my legs
unconventional art
like peoples tags in graffiti and skateboard stickers on the doors of abandoned buildings in disturbed neighborhoods
showing culture in cities
splashes of individuality beyond a zip code
disrupt
organized disorganization
and i’m silently drowning but i see you from the shore
or a figment of my ongoing untamed imagination
you smirked
you still would say that you didn’t mean to- you were daydreaming-
focusing on the scenery than the whole episode- ‘your bad tho- it was your bad’

i begged for my life back
and you shrugged your shoulders and went on walking back to the docks..
i hated you from the moment i contemplated even treading the shore and you knew how the evening would go as soon as you caught sight of me.

Everyone has a hero
Girls look up to their mothers
Boys look up to their fathers
sometimes viseversa
We always learn something from them
positive or negative
his father was supposed to be his hero
to save the day in times of distress
but his hero vanished
he didn't learn anything from
his hero but to
vanish when people need you
the most

keeping money is like vanity
my mother says with a cider beer in her left
as my father deals the poker chips.
texas hold ‘em, you ready?
he says brushing past my mothers routine complaints..

its useless- a waste..
i watch my mother eye the stack of bills from across the room
like seeing your friend tell the same joke for the third time waiting for your reaction,
everyone gets two cards and you can look at them
and get rid of the card you find the least valuable
he says

the tension in the room is unbearable like a thick cloud
so i sneak away
to avoid being asked my opinion.

they leave
and act like it never happened
they come back
and act like they never left




ghosts

old coffee coarses through me
can’t feel a heartbeat
going too quick to pick up a pulse
a sign of life
a drug yet a luxury
-integrity-
prosperity of humanity
and you have none while you continue to slander
my name
my name
being mentioned in rooms i’ve never stepped in

without my control,
a once blank canvas would soon be used as a form of blame and through it peace in you-
preconceived notions are drawn in the minds of associates and strangers
better than an aged painter in the studio he’s only ever known
yet this painter is blindfolded
while this oblivious painter intently tunes in
to sympathize with the selective truths you dispose
‘how could she??’ they say

beautiful
in an unconventional way
for you to teach them what they don’t want to be
whilst they choose what to hear
words sifted once again like the selection of the finest grain
rejects strawn amongst the boulder
you were once beautiful
a sweet dandelion left to a stem with a rigid bulb at the top
not hideous just no longer wished upon

unfortunately

there’s no lights in this room
just brushes sprawled all out on the rug
with a ray of sunkissed light coming through the duvets-
it’s a bother but you
bring it up when others do
used to be the highlight of the room
but now just something that reluctantly grew on you
you want the dark but i only wish light amongst you past lover

you continue to lead-
incite fine strokes in them for my self portrait
for better or worse
i refuse to recognize for myself
using colors i’d never think you’d use- their masterpiece being guided by your bitter words
i blamed myself for an instant-
something you’d never do
leading me to believe that your heart
never was truly pure when i was with you

her lips were
sweet and thick
like
fresh mango nectar
unruly wavy hair draped over knee as she drew until the sun came up again

you just want to put her in
a glass
savor
and sip her till there’s
nothing left

he took me to see the orchestra
i watched them while he watched me
both with eyes of awe
the synchronization of up and down bows
commanding emotion and
the harp in his chest strummed gently that evening
it hadn’t sung the way it sang that evening
i leaned towards the stage encapsulated
holding my hand he felt a sense of permanence
that if i heard the music i’d stay and the pain was worth it
and reminding him when it’s good it’s real good

he took me to see the orchestra because i played violin then
i dreamt of going back to school to practice more
i’d finger the notes under the table at dinner every night and i’d lose track of time and he noticed that and
he loved how immersed i could become once i fell in love with something
and he wanted not to wade but dive into me

he took me to see the orchestra because he loved the way i wrote then
it was complex and he didn’t understand it and it made him discontent with what he knew he appreciated how soothing and real the words felt
like running water on a cut
it was refreshing
cooling and he just wanted me to see what he heard when peering into my vessel and her prose

all your demons have finally died
my love..

under these mauve lights
we slow dance to the song that was popular
when we were on a break.

under these mauve lights
i study every imperfection in your face,
where you let the muscles tense and relax,
the way you look up every time i smile
at you as you pretend like you don’t see me.
and i forget i’m yours already sometimes.
and i look at you and i start to crush again.
i start to get the butterflies again.
but then you gently bring me down from the clouds
when you hold me the way you do.
so close and safe.

under these mauve lights
we hang by the bar with our friends
after we get a little too hot on the dance floor.
sweaty palms and whatnot
then
under the starlight
we go out to the terrace and slow dance once again
and whisper our sweet nothings
and after a while we just hold each other
not letting anything interfere..
i think i love you..

and they could all tell
that she was writing
but no one cared and they continued to
speak about cockamamie things
and she continued writing realities

because fantasies were just too rich and out of reach
and bad for her health

like a birthday cake shake from the momofuku milk bar right about now...

I saw your look and I knew something was up.
You said you were fine and I thought we got past your lying phase.
I want to know what's wrong and
I've actually never seen you cry..
I think you have heard me cry on the phone once..
nope actually a couple occasions.

I wonder if you're up..
if you decided to eat today but it shouldn't have to be that way.

My dad loves you a lot and
he always asks me about you and I'll
always reply with a "he's good" cuz what else would I say right?
The truth.
Like the opposite.
That you're breaking and what's holding you together is..



Only four minutes have passed.

anoche i had a dream that there were really bad thunderstorms
and so after every rumble of the storm
i’d count
one mississippi, two mississippi
three mississippi, four mississippi
and i woke up and you weren’t by my side
and i was worried and you know how careful i get
and i turned off all the acs
and took out all the chargers
      boom
one mississippi, two mississippi
three mississippi
i look for your keys and they’re not here
only your imprint on the bed and i’m frantic..
Bruno is whimpering so i let him hop up on the bed as i stroke his back..
but then i heard my name from the outside
       boom
one mississippi, two mississippi
and it was calling me from a window from the top floor of the house across
from me
and it was you
but there was no more time left
       boom
one mississippi

im afraid to ask
If i died, would you still live..
you just might say no..

my hair absorbed the humidity like the mop that dips into the watered down Fabuloso on sunday mornings
slaps on the floor and rubs back and forth on wood
i looked at the ground after stares from the first five grown men i passed
i felt dizzy chasing after meaning
i walked until i pictured myself downtown
peering in at sweet pork spots
and bakery corner shops with the occasional
we buy gold stands and ads for tutoring nearby
feel the cobblestone of the streets beneath my feet
making it hard to walk in an aligned manner
i felt my face flush of coolness
i step to the side holding on to one of the vans
that have fake coach and yves saint laurent in the trunk
look at my hands  
skin translucent veins undeniably apparent
wipe my eye and i’m back
on the ave
on a saturday morning
strolling
formulating my escape

he took the blindfold off
and tears welled up in her big hazel eyes
and he held her rosy cheeks
and told her that he genuinely loved her
and she was happy that he went through all the trouble
for the surprise

and then he said
but there’s more
and she got excited and
he put the blindfold back on
as he said wait till you see this part

and there was no more anything.



because it was make-believe after all

ive been struck by an eternal love
through every shape and form
i will love you one way or another

i love you
and out of all that i am uncertain of

this will always hold true.

Gigi,

life at home is
rough to say the least,
No it's hard
I know.
You didn't even tell anyone that you
graduated with honor roll
even through dealing with your mom.
You never got distracted
and I admired that.
That's a good thing..so why don't you want people
to be happy for you?

I gave you my phone number
at the last family reunion,

you never texted or called.
I try to reach out but
you push me away.
You insist on keeping your
problems to yourself..but I want you to burden me
if you feel like you would if you did vent to me.
I realize the moments that you let loose,
I see the real you.
The old you.
The you that never really left.
but when you realize it
You just start to close up again.

sinful man
bathing in the jezebel juice
muffled sounds of pounding fists on flesh
and pooling blood beneath it
to be covered up by skin-toned cream
he used to love
but downs brown bottles and spends
his nights near corner stores..
wretched 40s in paper bags that don’t mask a thing
comes home when he feels like
smelling of Dulce, the lady from the corner,
and commands a room
liquified demons
for they have him wrapped around the neck
silently begging for his life back
liver failing and heart with it
a single tear running down his face
only thinking of his mother
he blames his father
he wasn’t supposed to be this way
he was supposed to be successful and happy in his fathers eyes
black army man that never took no for an answer
6’3” army man
gave him siblings growing up all the same block
how considerate
all the neighbors kids on grave street were blood
ock legs and broad shouldered army man
when he came around the women on the block kept quiet
as if all sworn to secrecy of their forbidden affairs
he uses his faulty upbringing as an excuse to be the failure that he is
serious army man
never owed money to anybody
and never said excuse me during passing because
just with one look you knew
he was always going to go off unapologetically

you are a survivor
you are silenced because the color
of your skin intimidates the ones with
none.

your ancestors
your lineage
was strong
fighting everyday to get you
here
and this is what you make of them

that better place
all that fight and toil
to plant their seed and make a nation

for you to get here and their blood
just
to have a faint taste of freedom
to see you happy
blossoming
never succumbing to the the foot of a lesser one
you are
the rich fruit that will never cease
to bear fruit

you are

i took a marker to the beach
to sit on the hot sand
to ponder
and scribble all the sweet nothings i’d whisper in your ears
onto seashells
and throw them back into the ocean
in hopes of being retrieved by another..

distant waves flowed to and fro
windswept sand scattered across the land

and even if time would slow
your love and mine would never grow..

Raj was so conservative
She always wore
so many layers
Even on the hottest days
in summer
in summer I rarely saw her
wearing skin
even when my friends from the barrio opened up the hydrant and we played in the street in our bathing suits
Raj they asked me for one day
I think back and
cower over what has
become of my poor friend
Raj
She was always covered up
that I rarely saw her
but to think now
I'll never
see her
again

nothing more satisfying
than that
first swim
of the summer
that first lick of a
dripping icee or gelato whatever floats your goats

but that view
of that first warm sunset
reminding you that you don't got a man yet.





absolutely precious

She could look into his eyes for a million moons.
His kind eyes.
The ones that have sunsets behind them when he looked into the dipping sun.
His vibrant eyes.
The ones that light up the night and any given day.
His bright eyes.
The ones that got really wide when he spoke about his day.
His loving eyes.
The ones that would roll back when she'd say she didnt like how she looked.
His passionate eyes.
The ones that awed her writings.
For his eyes gradually grew cold and all he could feel was bitterness. His reassuring eyes.
Were the ones that helped her through.
But she was no longer precious.
In.
His.
Eyes.

where it seemed like i’d pick a
flower for every
worry
every anxiety
every flaw i saw
but didnt have.
The few succulents
would
soothe my nine and a half year old
mind.
the cool wind
that would uptake
my body when i was
flying
in the local park swings.
i swore i was soaring.
i’d close my eyes
and if i could just lean
to touch the blossoming tree over the gate
and at least pull a little flower bud off-
id look like a real angel.
tudor park,
where id run
sweat beading all over,
stopping at moments
panting like a big dog to cool off and then
I’d start all over again.
forgetting about how sick i felt
forgetting the big news i heard
about my mom
forgetting i’d have to be a
big sister for the third time.
just running.
not thinking.
getting lost at times
and being fully content with it.
i want to go back to these days
at tudor park
tudor park,
when my dad was done
playing basketball
i remember,
he’d asked me what i’d been doing
by the bed of flowers
I’d stay silent,
gathering a flower out of the soil
one by one
and he’d say i’d turn out to be just
like my mother.
I have her eyes.
He didnt know how right he was.

the heavens looking down see
black ominous umbrellas
scurrying about- the animals we are
seeking refuge beneath bodega quality umbrellas
flimsy like the faith i had in you
but may you prove me wrong, loved one
in this cluttered concrete jungle

familiarity
conformity
unoriginal-ality but in reality we
all have places to be and why stand out in the rain?

uninvited water droplets from sky
penetrate pantyhose and
the window plants of overpriced brownstones
the allure of rain by all natural individuals
see nourishment soon to unfold
beauty in baby’s toes stomping in mud
fishing for worms that wriggle with discomfort
gardener of words
rain or shine
she knew how to put a feeling into
gentle yet tasteful prose.

wanna blow o’s in a rental while listening to
Amy Winehouse

wanna curl up on your lap while you teach me
how to play fortnite.

wanna wear thigh high socks and your chain
and be your “wicked *****”
with scenes of us shown in sepia

wanna wear baggy ripped jeans,
crew socks, a slicked bun, and a baby tee
and take ***** backpack clique pics..
i could just go on..

i have walked many planets
and their moons
taking time to ponder on my
love for the generous universe.

every night i’d watch the sun transition
and i loved it when it came and even
when it went..
and i was content with the stars.

until i saw you arrive
on a near planet..
and you came out

my astronaut man
with all the planets on strings like
giant balloons

and you approached me and knelt on one knee
as you asked to explore the rest of the universe with me.



there is so much to see my love

Faces facing forward,
Looking at recycled idols
caring not and so people soon forgot;
she had talent.
to me this was apparent.
She wasn’t like the others,
she thought out of the box because
She didn’t like what was in.

Slower, slower
Replaying her moments
The way she moved
Out of place
How those eyes darted
Back and forth
You could tell
I studied her and
fell in love with the things I didn’t know yet.
I was so sure she was aware of this
and she didn’t mind.
She played it off
Her being the wallflower type of girl
she was, and she didn’t patronize me either but in a way

she still did.

Tio Daniel,

I'm really happy that you decided
to join the Navy.
Just finished boot camp and then off to Japan, right?
I tried to go to your graduation
but my dad wanted to go himself
since he wasn't allowed to be there
for most of his little brother's life..

When we met for the third time
in San Diego, we spoke for
a while and I told you about
how I write and
how my mom is really tough on me about grades.
and you just sat back in your chair for a little bit
then looked at your girlfriend
and started telling me of how much I look like my father
but I'm like **** krystal because she always kept
journals when you and her lived in the group home
and that was her outlet
to get away from everything.
And through it all she turned out just fine.
A single teardrop made its way down your cheek
going right over your smile and then
you hugged me
and told me I'll be better despite everything.
Despite our family's past.
Despite what we still go through.
Despite our fear of the uncertain and uncharted waters.
must be why you joined the Navy.

Lovely
Is what you are
you drive me to the moon
I can’t stop thinking about you
wondrous..

i talked to an angel
and she said i deserved this
reminded me i haven’t consulted god in ages
why was i on my knees once more..
i begged her to take me with her
her eyes glistened
non existent eyelashes batted at me as she smirked
and faded..

i lay here again
as i wonder what it’s like to be felt
ferverously by your curious hands.
pero
i’ll be patient and alone
waiting for only you to claim
my throne.

When you say
"I love you"

do you mean it..?



It seems so
practiced.

how even
poets
come to a loss of words when describing
what love is like
and how you seem to make my life
go round even when it seems
like everything's crashing?
When I'm upset when you tell me
the things that go wrong in your life
and I'm incapable of helping you,
like family complications
I start to cry

I know I shouldn't..
I get all worked up with the things
I
can't change..
Im working on that..
You always say your stupid jokes
and it's crazy you make
everything
better.

"Love may oftentimes seem cliché
especially when we hear ourselves overuse terms such as:
'I love you to the moon and back.'
So what to say or better yet.. how to say it?
How can genuine love..the real kind.. the kind that isn't always happy and wrapped with a bow be expressed?"
but it's true.
I really do love you.
And even though I'm young
it doesn't mean
I don't know what it feels like..

you’re a sweet vibe
***** backpack clique kinda chick
make me wanna sit on some
apartment steps and watch
inspiring me to write till mamí calls me in for food
sipping my horchata,
like a hip hop song
make me warm inside..
let the kids from the barrio run around
because it’s not chaos to you
it’s family
the seriousness of the world will hit them
and its not any of our jobs to quicken the pace
you wear your dads cuban link chain
irremovable like a birthmark
pantalones rotos because everything else is

Got so quiet

When I needed rain
You always left me in a drought
So I went a waze
And chose another route
No longer have to deal with fears or doubts