anxiety hit
the shakes followed
and the snow was hitting the house outside
surreal almost
sounding like pop rocks
in a moist throat.

oh she wanted to be held by
the strong hands of inner peace
she layed in bed and
prayed for forever as well
as now.

and the world is
corrupt
and putrid and behind every corner
is a person plotting another’s demise
and i look up only to see swinging brown bodies
from the branches
dancing to the whistles of the wind
and the whites
seeing their downfall
from above their heads
the whites
afraid of the color they don’t know
the winds
up-taking their beings without permission
they nod as if they’ve done a noble deed
and i collapse from beneath the oak
from the stench of rotting flesh
and fallen hopes..

how can you turn a blind eye
to what we could be

i grab your hands and make them latch on
to my thighs
thighs that could give
a dead man life and so i
took your fingers and
trailed them all over
the bumps
scars
stubble
and bruises
telling my story
all of what you don’t hear
choose not to see
yet feel
caress
and ******
to embrace without letup..

i don’t understand why you
feel so empty all the time
i came to my consciousness
and felt restraints on my arms
by entangled winter scarves
making it hard to shuffle from the
chair i was tied to.
and **** was he strong.

you wanna feel lonely
i’ll show you lOneLY
he turned on the hanging light a few steps behind him as i heard a rodent scurry behind me
this
right here-
he had a styrofoam ball from Michaels on the coffee table
i didn’t get it-
i let out a chuckle
im glad you find it amusing- see this is me
he pointed to the shadow
and this is you-
me of course the light you’d assume
you-wherever you go you
are the light that everyone sees-
yet you act all dark and sad and write about how no one cares about you
tears started to well up in his eyes and voice on the brink of breaking the way his heart did
but you ARE and you don’t see it
and i’m here-your shadow
he moved the light all around
there always being a shadow and a bright light shining off the 50 cent planet
and so-

he sighed a deep exhale and pressed his eyes in
you’re on punishment and until you realize that you’re loved you’ll realize i’m doing this for your own good
he started to shuffle around me and seemed a little conflicted
bewildered by his own thoughts
i whimpered through the salty sock
he clicked his tongue three times and stroked my cheek and ran his clammy fingers over my hair
you’re so precious
one day
you’ll understand
he pulled the wooden chair i was bound to
and brought me to the cold solemn basement
you’ll start to notice your light..
he said as he flipped off the switch
..when all you see is darkness

feverous wet lips
caress and glide against each other
relentlessly
inseparable
pulling apart but never apart
reddened cheeks filled with warmth and
desire
wild eyes feasting on seemingly natural inclination
she lies there with starving thighs
eat her up
something in him said
as he goes for the bite

was she ever even mine..

you
my angel
made me drink from the fine glass
of despondency before you
peeled my lips off my face
when you walked out of my life.

in your left hand
you’d whip my tounge around
that you rooted out my mouth
like a proud trophy you were left with
in a Roman arena after a good fight.

leaving me to make unintelligible sounds only
just trying to be understood in a world
that only revels in discernment
you slaughtered my greatest gift
from both wrists down

my ability to write
you had stripped from me
my ability to speak all the perfumed words
of my soul
you had weeded out..





why do you do this to me my love..

i’d rather freeze over
by your grave on
icy rainy nights
than frolick in a placid world without you..



pretty little fears
music to my ears

i’m gonna force myself
to write something
beautiful for your eye holes
and that ****** muscle
in between your lungs that
feels
a little too much

want you to hold me as
tight as you hold on to a lie

clinging to it with coveted life
yearn for me
hold my thighs over your
shoulders like an emotional burden
ravage yourself through me
while you quench your thirst
for forbidden honeydew
while i continue to regret meeting
you.

when i was four
id stand there in awe
seeing a baby cloud almost floating
from the ceiling
and so id chase it
and swat it when it got in arms reach
so i’d ball up my hands in fists and
unfold to find nothing
but clammy palms and pen marks

every
time




i was never good at attaining things
that descend from the sky..

she met with him
in room 184 of
the love motel
the plants were dying sooner this fall
and so was she.

she’d yelp as he tightened his grip
around her waist
making it harder to breathe
making the guilt harder to bear
-with every gasp
she only thought about his heart wearing away within him

and when it was dun
she gave way to tears as he wiped her
chest.





hard to smudge regret

She had a dissembling way
about her.
agenda concealed and opaque as nightfall.
her smile
conniving
making me wish i left sooner.

mi novia del campo
tiene pelo rizado but she always stuffs
her curls in buns
and she layers her gold necklaces that have been passed through generaciones of abuelas
and she always ran en el campo
sin zapatos

comes home and cries on her bed
soaking her bata
her sweet coquito tears
making me drunk

oh how i want to make her happy
mi tesoro del campo..

she spoke rumors
thick as morning breath

traveled around the neighborhood
like wildfire

got cut off like a cancer


and forgotten like a new years resolution

acne-riddled
bushy-browed preteen
with more hormones than head
writing in the hallways
the smell of premature couples and drama
lingered like a heavy blanket from the ceiling so she was a wallflower
writing about the broken friendship bonds that are soon to come..

he initially lost his mind
when the apple blossoms started to come back from a long absence..
wishing that when he picked up his hand and stroked the bark of the tree
he wasn’t smelling rotting insides of old war pals
..never getting to hold their mothers petite hands again..
yet the apple blossoms

so clean
like home
home
where he thought that once he signed into the draft
fighting for his country would be a
beautiful thing

but in reality
both sides get hurt..





you will never be free

the birds were perched up
congregating
atop of the Rite Aide awning
they fly in twos descending toward
the local pizza shop
with the faded awning
tearing at the seams

trying to make sense of it all..

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

it’s crazy how some people sacrifice themselves to a world that
doesn’t love them back

counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 1

when i don’t hear back from you i get worried
my heart gets hopped up on adrenaline
getting ready for all the crazy thoughts and
unformidable daymares to unfold in my mind
i brace myself for the unknown
my mind
that wild thing i never seem to be able to control




counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 2

i imagine you laying toy like on your glass dining room table
the sacred red syrup pouring out your jugular
staining the fabric table mats your mom got from a friend

it was a funny story




counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 3

i imagine
your mother coming home and the shrill shriek
that every weakling at a funeral breaks down to




counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 4

i imagine hearing about it
and taking my hair and cutting it all off

running until my lungs would collapse
making me cheeks sting from the tears that’d become frozen
escaping from my ducts
the same way you slipped through my grasp

with such ease
like
like..



counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 5

i imagine waking up that next morning
wishing you took me with you

my petite hands clasping the sheets above my head
trying to hide
from the inevitable

yes i’d never be the same.

there’s even a little fridge next to
your waffle mattress with
leftover chinese containers
soggy broccoli and carrots
swimmin freely in the sauce

remaining untouched
..
a matted rug on the floor of my cranium
that was unintentionally placed
collecting the dirt from your feet
treading over every
natural inclination to evict you
you sigh within me knowing i’m not strong enough

for i cant

you will eternally live
rent-free in my mind..

i didnt have a bathing suit
and you didnt have a care..
the swallows chirped from above

we waded in the river
all over the
slimy algae-encased rocks
almost ensuring us stumbling every once in a while
breaking up the romantic moments.
we glided over the stones
with as much grace as newborn antelopes trying to balance their weight with gravity.
but it was alright
because i was with you and i didn’t care about anything else.

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

clicking his
pen like a
heartbeat
      click click
he saw her
flourishing
      click click
moving on from their
past toxic relationship
       click click
she’s not crippling now that he
stopped talking to her
       click click

he kept telling her she’d be fine

if i disappeared

       click click

we did red wine face masks and
after she used mamís’ shiseido eye cream without asking

que rebelde i told her
her face started to change
lips started to curl

no me hablas así
no soy tu amigíta..
Got it?

si permiso ‘uela..






at least i tried to bond

let me love you down in
lavender sheets..

we used to have everything in common
now all we share is the refrigerator

ice cold baby
ice cold

i dig my nails under rocks to
hide away my time capsule
soon to dig it up again like an issue with a significant other that you choose to postpone until the worst time.
i put in a ring
a letter
and a picture of me.

i put it in a small cardboard box
right next to the eggshell my mom planted so
all that would be left is
the ring as time goes on
hopefully.

yes
spanish mothers will always love their sons
not knowing the havoc they wreak
toward freshmen girls senses
harassing them
holding them
making them feel like
maybe it’s
supposed to feel like this..
supposed to be this way..

spanish mothers
will have a poté of arroz ready all the time for her growing boy
with a cold Malta w crushed ice at the ready.
spanish mothers
don’t believe the teachers at the conferences
about the talking and the disruptions in the class
mi niño nunca habla durante de la clase
she’s sure of it.
the teachers baffled thinking that if they told a parent
things would change.

nowhere to turn.
their sons won’t be stopped.







dun dun duuuuuuun

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..

i learned/ i was told in fourth grade
that when you talk really gentle and sweetly
to a plant
it’ll grow faster than if it was in a loud and angry environment.
i was given a small aloe bulb and i kept her,
promised i’ll water her when it’s necessary and a little bit in between
and put her up on the window that catches the most light.
and so i followed through
and so did she.
and now i cut open her prickly yet juicy leaves whenever i need an organic face mask for my hideous adolescent skin.

i miss the best friend
i never had..

he was such a good listener.

im melancholic
best friend of two years moved away
without a word.
got cut off by those who'd **** for me

right?
cuz why not.
we're just in the mood to break hearts
and make them cry to their mothers and
make them binge netflix and
read a whole lotta novels not settling for one
because why be sensical when
you have
heartbreakers who can relieve you of
that job.

im just a sack of meat
who cares about too much ****
and shuts out negative opinions from well-meaning people
only hoping to
prove people wrong
only trying to give those the benefit of the doubt
and is just too
goshdarn
emotional.

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...

she wore bright pink socks with
yellow butterflies that she stole from
her little sister
that were on more of the smaller side
underneath her
Nike Prestos..

they were red..

and the color combo was bothering my eyes.

your smile is my most favorite beautiful thing in the world.






keep smiling for me sugar

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.

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

and he called her that night
needing her consolation
and she avidly listened to him
all the sniffles
every shake in his voice
his trauma,
loud enough to startle the dogs,
was evident..

and as the night went on she continued to try her best
to distract him and it worked

and off to sleep he went
leaving her with sniffles and shakes in her voice
low enough for some to here

and she stroked his head through her headphones
and tried to push away the thought of
you being someone else’s
someday ..

the moon looked a little pink
didn’t it..
i lowered the window as the breeze made it
hard to focus
but it was warm and marvelous
almost like a summer fling..

and i put my right headphone back in
while Daniel Caeser
sang me to sleep..

that’s a mistake you’ve always made
trying to love me

then again you were the kinda person
who always gave people seven chances until they
proved themselves right

im up to four strikes,
no?

you packed your bags
and i gave you the freshly-printed plane ticket
and the taxi guy honked in front of the house
and you gave me an endearing look
and told me you’ll miss me and you’ll update me
every step of the way

and pulled me by my back toward you and
lightly kissed my lips and
you walked to the door and

held the brass **** with sadness
and i didn’t let go
of your hand..




kiss me harder before you go

she didn’t go after him
because he was easy to apprehend

it was no challenge

and that’s just no fun..

and she just floated in the middle of the pool
with her clothes on,
her black Chucks and a
rolled up fatty in her right hand
and just looked at the distant stars
and wondered how much time
she had left




cuz ****..

we woke up super early
unzipped each of our tents in stealth mode
and tip-toe ran all the way up the hill
to brush our teeth y entonces
give each other a lil morning lovin’

we walked back down separately and started up a fire
not a metaphoric one in our hearts of course
but the story changes depending
on who’s asking..







come back osi

she pulls up to school with
the short jean skirt that she begged
her mother for
with knee-high socks and tall white chucks

she’s got an
overripe peach logo on her
faded off white shirt
which she tucked in after she got into homeroom..




this was it
the first year..
only three more to go..