Devious – A Poem

If you only holla
when you’re mala
I’d bet you a koala,
that known even in Guatemala,
you ain’t worth a dolla.

Or a dime
or none of my time.
Sour like a lime,
devious like slime,
without you I’ll be fine.

So be real or be gone
and I don’t mean a put-on
sincerity bought on Amazon.
Tons of years, same outcome,
end it already, baby, come on.

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Moments – Making the Best of It

I remember the day. Spontaneity was in the air. Sky, bright. Sun, a delight. What a laugh we had. Then, the rain came down and, instead of running from it, we ran towards it. We stayed. We played with it, and we went through it. Because waiting for the storm to pass was not an option. But once it stopped, we appreciated the sun even more because we understood how short-lived bliss can be; that life happens in a flash and it doesn’t wait for you, but you can adapt to the season. And, as cliché as it can be, you can indeed make the best of it.

Seize the day.

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Oh, the Pain

Some days I feel like the child of Sylvia Plath and Edgar Allan Poe, if they had had one together. I think a bit of “darkness” is all right from time to time — if we only had sunlight it’d be tough to sleep, wouldn’t it? The point is every emotion and state of being is important; it makes us human.

Here’s a silly thing: when I think of feelings of emptiness and nothingness, I think of Emo. And when I think of Emo…I can’t help thinking of those South Park episodes now where they mock these feelings with the Goth and Emo Kids, particularly a hair-flipping kid named Pete, talking about how “life is only pain” and how we’re only taught to believe in happy fairytale endings. It’s hilarious.

There’s also a quote attributed to John Green that also makes me chuckle every time:

Poetry is just so emo…. Oh, the pain. The pain. It always rains. In my soul.

Funny because it can be so true. (What is not funny is having constant feelings of depression, though. One must seek medical help in that case.)

Stay wordy, and alive!

And if you have Instagram, check out my sketches and more storytelling at @SOATD

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You Exist

I have been invisible to guys like him even after physical introduction. It got me thinking, why would I let another human being make me feel smaller?

Here’s to everyone who’s ever felt invisible: YOU EXIST, in all your glory. And the stars and the universe know about you — and they’re much, much, much grander than all of us little humans. So if anyone ever doesn’t acknowledge your existence, remind them of their insignificance.

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Life Has a Funny Way – Excerpt

How could I have ignored the time Rey commented on my neighbors’ little sister’s physical appearance? “Man, she’s going to be a heartbreaker,” he said in a way that no grown eighteen-year-old male should be using to refer to a ten-year-old. I found the comment inappropriate, but said nothing. And, how about the time a girl, who happened to go to my school, came up to me and told me that she was my boyfriend’s girlfriend? Or the time he implied that he’d lost count of how many girls he’d f-cked? Or the time when someone told me they saw him making out with some other girl at the beach? The signs were so many, right in my face, and I chose to look away.

It was hard to accept that my little fantasy was over. He was my first love, after all. He was my first kiss and the first living man I had ever shed tears for. Letting go was hard. But he was also the first boy to break my heart, and that was harder. If I’d stayed, I’d be stepping on my own dignity. There would be no back-on this time — we were off, forever.

Get Nostalgia and Deal Breakers: A Short Story Collection to read the whole essay. Available on Amazon Kindle.

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Me Too – And Hear Me Out

I learned about the terminology “Thirst trap” from my brother the other day. (I still laugh at those words, by the way.) All the brave women coming clean about their sexual assault or harassment experience these past weeks made me, once again, think of this social media–especially Instagram–slang.

There’s this short story I read on Twitter by a woman who, when she was a teenager, was raped by a group of human waste (they don’t deserve to be called men). She never told anyone about what happened and said that she had gotten in a fight when asked about her bruises. My guess is that she never spoke out because of shame. (SHE felt shame, when it should’ve been the other way around.) She said that she only told her mom in recent years, I think in her 30s, and that the first question her mom asked was, “What were you wearing?

What a chilling response… and to hear it from her own mother. My heart shatters for women like her because there is this incredible amount of pressure and BLAME put on us women, on any victim; there’s this belief in our society that WE are responsible for, not only our behavior but also for men’s behavior. It’s been said a million times, but I’ll say it again: a woman isn’t asking for “it” when she dresses provocatively.

Regardless, no matter the reason for a woman to show a lot of skin, never blame her for the actions a man takes. No one is putting a gun to that man’s head forcing him to do the unthinkable. There’s this thing called SELF-CONTROL and, dammit, common sense?? Practice it! It is men’s responsibility, not ours, to control their “thirsty” selves. Remember that.

Thank you to all the brave women sharing their stories. Keeping quiet only allows for more assaults, sometimes even by the same perpetrator. You  are loved, and remember it was not your fault.

So, fellas, are you with me?

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Mortal Impossibilities

Surprise me.
Take me to the moon so many promises have failed to climb.
Show me the sunset at sunrise.
Will you make come true that song’s lines,
and for me the Kilimanjaro climb a thousand times?
You vow never to make mistakes,
but human we are and we break.
If I’m the sole reason that you breathe,
promise you won’t die if I leave?
Told me I’m more precious than the Stonehenge stones;
I can’t promise you forever, I’m flesh and bones.
Loving can be short, Neruda said,
and forgetting, so long.
Only proceed if you know you’re strong.
For us mortals the impossible seems easy;
we become dreamy when we love so deeply.

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