My Poetry


I carry you around,
like a scar  that is always with me,
a reminder of the past,
a constant memory that never leaves.
A secret I keep
because no one can comprehend the magnitude of what you encompass.
Like a shadow of who I used to be,
the familiar twang of a once, known sweet melody
At times, my heart still yearns for you and for us,
for the magic that we built
in that small place we called home
living for the moment,
never imagining it could ever end.
Loving hard and falling further,
into obscurity, into you and me
until I became unrecognizable
former remnants of my life before you
float in my subconscious,
daring to break through the thickness
of the wall I have built
due to circumstances far beyond my control.
Thought we would grow old…together
instead we grow further apart
tell that to my heart,
which cannot comprehend the brain’s harsh reality
Drifting…into a world that does not understand,
a world that would not take my hand
to walk me though the rough patches,
the scary times and the hopelessness
This I must face on my own
advancing into the unknown
relying on faith to lead me
into uncharted waters in which I blindly walk
with no vision of the future
but hopes of what I hope can be.
For what more can I do?


Smiles and laughs,

Living in the moment.

Holding on to memories so tightly

For fear that the world might sweep them away.

Sweet music drifting from the car radio

Our hair dancing in the wind,

As we drive down time’s highways

Toward adventure.

And I love you openly

And without limits.

Hardships leave scars,

Scars I choose to ignore sometimes,

Just so that I can get up in the morning

And attempt this thing called life.


It’s always so wonderful at first.

I catch your eye and I’m enraptured.

You fall so fast…completely enamored.

It’s like something out of a dream,

So beautiful, so sweet.

The night floats on

As our souls meet.

We part ways

And I’m already craving our next meeting,

But I’m setting myself up for a disaster.

Something has changed,

The lighting is different

And for whatever reason,

You no longer hold my interest.

I look at you intently

As words spill from your ordinary lips,

I wonder how I can let you down gently

Without breaking your heart.

They call me a heart breaker,

A name I dare not claim,

For I have no desire to make

That my claim to fame.

In the end

I never win.

Someone always gets hurt.

But I can’t help my feelings,

I’m not one to be fake.

I stay in the game

And move on to the next

Hoping to the story will end differently,

Hoping to find love

But it’s all so damn complex.

Boxed Life

Life is a hedge-lined maze.
I’m afraid it might swallow me alive,
as I bend to smell the sweet roses,
and their hidden thorns poke my yielding skin.

Recoiling from my finger’s pain,
salty blood tickles my taste buds
as I attempt to dissipate the pain.

The infinite green blinds me with its redundancy.

Too much silence is surely deafening.
I hear its heaviness falling upon my weak shoulders

like the weight of Langston Hughes’s powerful words
resting upon the tip of the Eiffel Tower.

But the sweet roses are so pungent.
And sometimes I wish I had more direction,
because aimlessness is not fitting.
And now I won’t find my way out,
because I’m too dehydrated,
choking on your senseless words.
You son of a gun.
The lost son of scattered passions
waiting to be brought to life with the slightest breath of oxygen.

I desired you
the way a dry eye craves a pinch of sand.
I sang you a love song,
teasing your heart and soul out of your human carcass
like a man of desire rubs his genie from his golden lamp.
For I am one greedy princess.

One day we’ll walk together
and find our way out,
out of this lush, green prison.
I’ll believe he loves me if he doesn’t tell me so.
El me ama, el no me ama.
The roses whisper beautiful lies,
and my ears are seduced by their loveliness.
The once red roses fade to green
as my soul also succumbs to the madness.


The coruscation pouring through the rusty window
comforts me, despite the torrent windstorm outside.
Nature’s green has temporarily disappeared,
replaced instead by the arid desert’s bronze sand.
Gritty sand that blinds those
who dare to open their denying eyes
to the truth of their haunting lies inside.

His eyes hold a taunting secret,
awakening all my senses.
His musical words halt my thoughts,
keeping my mind in a trance.
A trance that can only be broken
by the shattering glass
of the rusty window
that can no longer stand
the force of Mother Nature’s tools.

He’s simply exquisite,
a model to be studied,
a phenomenon I sinfully envy.
He seems unmoved by the storm.
And I can’t fight his eyes,
which focus only on me,
controlling me so completely.

Hesitantly, I look down,
picking up the broken glass pieces.
A trickle of blood slides down my finger
smearing the diamond ring
that never shone bright enough.
With a slight jolt,
it falls to the floor.
Silently, my eyes meet his haunting gaze.
A gaze that tells me everything.

My shoulders shiver from the sudden chill in the room.
I shield my eyes from the desert sands outside.


I want to be on the inside of the painting,
Where I can be absorbed by the beauty and brilliant light.
On the outside I am obscured by the various wet colors
And lost in the chaos of confusion.

It’s all so coveted,
She only seeks the normal existence,
The consciousness of companionship,
The very feeling of sentiment.

The magnetic pulse pulls me in when I get too close,
But it’s premature and underdeveloped.
So far from reality as we know it and honesty
And not the acceptance she seeks.

She watches a butterfly bend its delicate wing
And becomes aware of the frailty of her own soul.
No one knows her solitude,
How she is confined by her tears and the world’s standards.

How she is so misunderstood by the same ones who bring her down.

The Madness of the Record Player

He told me to be beautiful
And I willingly acquiesced.
He has so much power over my emotions,
And I, helpless in my needs,
Can do nothing.

I desire to please him,
He longs to tear me down.
He leaves the record playing all day (long),
Imprisoning me with the same sad love song,
Of feelings not returned.
My delicate, shaky, and timid voice is afraid to sing its sorrows.
How I need the melody to soothe my aching soul,

But alas you’re a mystery to me.
Your beauty and flawlessness amaze me.
Your life has been so hard.
I know despite your inclinations that you need me.
The recognition of that mere fact drives you crazy inside.
It’s all such a violent and dangerous cycle.

Oh how you possess me!
It’s like when I see you something just lets go inside,
All of my inhibitions, all those pent up feelings.
The past is so easily forgotten.

My soul longs to fly (with you),
Only you can take me there.
But the unrequited love leaves a tear in my heart,
My soft flowing tears are quickly turned to ice by your nonchalant glance,
More than the human heart can hold.
So many emotions unfold in the complicated world we create for ourselves.

The endless lies and slight breath suspended in the air.
I breathe in waves,
Some high, some low.
I love in phases.
How indecisive I can be,
How lovely are my dreams.
I’d give it all up for them to come true,
For reality to make its debut in the fantasy-filled world (work)…

I touched the yielding grass the other day…
And  thought of you,
Now that I’m free from your binding grasp…
Now that I can breathe on my own.


The streetlights are dimming.

I dream of old Hollywood.
A dapper woman wearing a fitted trench coat
And fur hat
Being twirled round and round in perfect circles
By her oh so handsome lover.
Twirling in the quiet streets-
A world all their own.

I walk the dark streets alone,
Side-stepping warm puddles,
Huddling in defense of the cold, cruel wind.
Wind that whips my cheeks into numbness.
I breathe out cream puffs of carbon dioxide
That light up the charcoal, placid night air.

I often think of you when fall turns into winter.
When brown leaves give up their seat to white-sugar snow.
Wishing we could have been that old Hollywood couple.
But we never could be,
No matter how hard I tried to wish it into existence.


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