I refuse to be like your mother….

Not because she isn’t resilient but because I cannot survive the pain she decorates in lace. She cries alone and your father wears the smell of alcohol like cologne. She puts on her smile like makeup. Her shirt is a mask that covers the bruises. She sometimes breaks down to the ground when she thinks you’re in the shower and cannot hear. She brings you your folded clothes like she’s bringing the parts of her that haven’t been destroyed. She asks you to put it away right away. Just maybe, you have the parts of her that have not died. Your mother like many women deserved a happy ending. 


Undocumented and Abused 

I didn’t belong here or there. I was taught my existence had to be a secret

Even my poems were illegal and I kept them hidden

When they invaded my body I had no where to go

As his hands went up my skirt I gulped my screams

I could not ask for help in a place that didn’t want me

                     -undocumented and abused 


It will break you. You will wake you up in the middle of the night in tears and in fear. You will keep your door closed in hopes it will keep you safe from your feelings. You will feel as if you will never be okay. As if the pain will keep consuming your every thought. You will be afraid of his touch even if it’s full of love. 
It will break you but it will not destroy you.

I am not what Happened to Me

I hated the world for messing me up. For taking parts of me that I had not even discovered. It was the loss of innocence and the arrival of fear. I felt used like I was just a cloth meant to wipe away impurities. I felt lost in the places I found comfort. I died every night in the shadows of my dreams. Wishing that it had never happened to me. Crying angry words to god and asking why he didn’t protect me. I wondered why me? Why did their touch take advantage of me? Why did they leave me with years of uncertainty?


They do not know what they did to me. They sleep at night peacefully everyday while I reminded myself I was okay. I spent so many days with hate.  At one point I realized it was time to alleviate. My soul was ready to love even the most mysterious of black holes. I could no longer fear the unknown because what I did know saved me. I was someone’s black sea an eternal beauty, I was discerning, I was passion swimming with ideas, I was me. I am alive; everyday I see the sun rise I feel it resonate with everything I create.