with a smile like yours

you are not mine and you will never be

meant to be

the flames of the fire pit kiss my arms and awake my senses

I find comfort in knowing that we are born alone and we will die alone

any day now

I find comfort in knowing we are all alone,  together

with a heart like yours how do you expect me to forget you

with kisses like yours

the sun comes around here

the sun comes around here

it lives here in my living room



your eyes are a lovely shade of blue

cut out the bullshit

break out the birthday suits

i took a taxi to your place at 1am last night

you’re still the best sex i’ve ever had

our love a love so tragic

i don’t need no sugar coating

the truth taste bitter on the tip of your tongue

tell it how it is

nothing can break me anymore

your syringe turns my blood black

you kiss the holes in my arms

and tell me i’m beautiful

best you’ve ever had




august 7th 2018

Past due goodbyes. I forgive you.
Now clean out the ink turning my blood black.
I drink up their acid. Bottoms up. I do it to stay humble.
Yes, I smoke lots and lots of cigarettes even though they will kill me one day.

When I was a child, I used to be afraid of dying. But, now that I think of it, I was terrified of the unknown.
This past spring, I filled my syringe with poison because I was afraid of living.
I wrote my father a letter, said goodbye to my home, the desert. Schorching, moody, with it’s cool summer nights.
God gave us tears cause living ain’t free. We pay up, with our suffering.
I pay up, with my suffering
And I wouldn’t change a thing.
There’s so much beauty in dirt.

august 26th, 2018

Spilled. Water damage. All apologies. Watering holes. Naked bodies intertwined, your bed our canvas. Heart like desert rose. Singing heart little bluebird. I hug your shoulders and smell your neck. . We found each other again. We found little broken pieces of clay. We recycled them, made new ones. You are the first person I’ve met who eats the same foods I do. Yesterday you told me that I wasn’t just your lover, I was your friend. You kissed me, wiped my tears, helped me to bed, took off my boots and socks. Tucked in, tuckered out, tomorrow, today, my tenderness, is yours too.

This type of sadness is new to me. I want to cry for hours but my body or my mind or both won’t allow it. It’s like I’ve shut off a part of myself because it is too painful to even think about or begin to process the past 9 months. I’m not binging on drugs and alcohol to numb the heartache. I have nothing left to give.

One of my biggest regrets is not listening to you sooner. You told me over and over that you didn’t know if you loved me. And you didn’t. You never did. And you never will.

fuck you Amanda Phillips

Shout out to all them ugly ducklings, them late bloomers. My father has been a single father since I was 1 month old, I’ve got mad respect for that dude. He put so much effort into doing my hair every morning when I was a child, and his intentions were noble, but I hated him for making me an easy bulling target in grade school. I hated my boy cousin’s  hand me down clothes, but they were free of holes so. Beggars can’t be choosers.

There was this bitch name Alejandra De Leon in my first grade class, she had her pretty dresses, her pretty pink ribbons, and her pretty friends, who made fun of me for not having a mom. One day, during recess, after hearing her laugh after I walked by past her I threw my first punch. I have forgiven her since cause bitches didn’t fuck with me after that. Fast forward to freshman year of high school and meet Amanda Phillips. She was blonde, pretty, and rich. Bitch wouldn’t give me a pad when I got my period, early, after gym class. We were the last two girls left in the locker room and she refused to help a homie out when I KNEW she had at least 10 fucking pads in her locker. When I leaked through the bunched up layer of toilet paper in AP English and rushed out of the room to wash out the big loud red stain on my jeans in the girls bathroom, she told  her friend Alicia  about my accident. Alicia told Brooke and Brooke told Sean . By the end of the day, the entire freshman class new about it and whispered and laughed every time they saw me for the rest of the year. I still can’t forgive her for it. Fuck you Amanda Phillips.

I was this fat nerdy virgin who wore the same 5 band t-shirts all four years of high school. I love you, fat virgin. I’m sorry it took 7+ plus years to say that. I’m sorry I hated every single thing about you then. Fat girl was well read and soft spoken and kind. Fat girl wrote poetry.  Fat girl was sweeter than pie and her feelings. I love you so much fat girl, and your heart of gold. Don’t ever change, little one.

I’m back

It’s been quite sometime.

Hello, I’m back.

After receiving a grand total of 53 rejection letters from several literary magazines, I am back.

I am still sending my poetry out in hopes that one day I will get one fucking piece of poetry or prose published, but I recently discovered that I can still get my writing published even if it has been published on my blog before. I found a loophole. 🙂

I am considering uploading 9 month’s worth of writing to this blog,  but the thought of it makes me exhausted. Only time will tell if that’ll ever happen. Stay tuned ya’ll.

Oh and I’ve made too many terrible life choices since my absence, of course. I am only human remember?

I am praying for winter to be over soon so I can bitch about how fucking windy it is during Spring here in Albuquerque instead of complaining about the snow, the lack of sunlight, and HOW MUCH I MISS SUMMER.

My people were not made for this type of weather.

Friendly reminder: I don’t care if you live in Chicago or Rhode Island or fucking New York City and you are used to a 6n month winter with below zero temperatures. I’M COLD BITCH.


girl, in progress