I wow not to leave this earth a lonely *****,
Taunted by past lovers who label me as a witch?
Here I am today, keeping my eyes on the price,
I wow never again to be fed by more optimistic lies

From the Caribbean to the Central American shore
Every woman need to be love and to be adored
And not be willfully be subjected
to the life of a married man's *****

I have found solace in my poetry,
Therefore, I cannot commit adultery?

Living with shame, guilt and
asking God to forgive a sinner
Here I am today keeping my eyes on the price,
I just became an instant lucky winner:

Because of that little girl from across the Caribbean Sea
Who travels led her to the Central American shore
Once she said no more, she meant no more

A woman like me is often misunderstood.
Because of the path I have taken through the woods
I have listened numerous times to the blabbing brook
Who comments were rude, about the rich folks

But instead I observe from my homeless tent, the high achievers
I took it all in stride, while the mosquitoes chew on my legs
Women like me aren’t afraid to dream,
Neither are we bashful to wear
the wide rim hat at Easter time
Because all eyes would be on the winners (us)

Remember the day
They took the pain away
And turned us all oxymoron's
Visiting our own graves

The walking dead
Zombified
And to think we thought
They gave us back our lives

Trampled by the pills
That they prescribed
Pay the pusher
The greatest price
It'll be alright

When it's hard to swallow
When that ain't enough
Find an uncaring vain
And start shooting up

Who could have known
They'd throw us the longest curve
When the disease turn out to be
What we thought the greatest cure

Your kiss on my lips
Doesn't fit anymore
The spaces between our fingers
Doesn't complement at all

You caused my heart
To break into pieces
And now that you are trying to stitch it
The pieces don't fit anymore

The pieces won't fit anymore
Or maybe won't be completed at all
(Because parts of me, I already gave to you)

I may be whole again (maybe not)
But never the same
There will be holes and cracks
But I guess, I can still be functional
I hope..

Beauty,
          is what she looks like
Sadness,
          within her light
Darkness,
          comes with her presence
Wings,
          carry me in the night
Mountains,
          hold us way behind
Winds,
          when skies are tight
Luck,
          is all what we need
Happiness,
          is far from my sight
Future,
          is not coming through
God,
          please make things right

portraits in sepia crowding the table
no mirror path, no sugar
we drink our coffee black
deserted roads are blossoming in our eyes
under the table - disgust
some well disguised hatred
dinner is never served
cause the cubists reinvented the atom
I stay by the window counting widow-days
wondering
how many motherless women
can teach their children what to say
to the never day

Muddled thoughts and cigarette smoke
It wasn't like this a week  ago
It was love in its purest form
Hundreds of kisses and hugs a day
Never ending I love you's
It seems that's all gone away
Heartache and tears is all that's left of the memories we once held in our chest
Where love once brightened our hearts
That light has gone.

Self,
centered,
watching the world burn.
This calm is maintained by
expelling air in between each blink.
Glass is far in sight,
glasses cracked
and not foreseen,
because I'm not a seer.
Blanketed in ignorance,
wrapped: up tight.
Shelf this selfishness, I'm told.
So I consider this advice.
Rearranging the paperbacks.
Misplacing the first editions.
All the math in the world; variables
do not ease understanding
of long division.
So I'm left not right,
have never been alright,
and that is why being centered
is crucial for survival.
That is why becoming adaptable
isn't laughable
while watching the world burn.
It's having a cold disposition
to withstand the heat.