Here’s some old poetry, dumping it here for posterity. I would like to get back into trying to write poems, but it’s hard to stay motivated when your stuff is really not that great, haha. I cringe at some of this so posting it is an act of courage. Just be creative who cares if you suck!

Anyway, maybe I’ll write again some day in the future, and work

What I’ve Learned About the Flavor of Trust

Trust tastes like pennies
Tastes Like blood in my mouth
I bite my tongue and
it feels tough like old chewing gum

I’m trying not to throw
all that you’ve done in your face.
Trying not to remember myself wondering
How can I still love you when I don’t trust you?

We’re bound by a silent agreement

I won’t talk about those nights
When you kissed other women
And you won’t remind me of the months
I spent entertaining another man.

I have no idea what trust tastes like to you
B.ut I know it’s bitter
I can tell by the face you make
When you feel threatened by another

And I’m a sadist, because I like it.
I enjoy the panic in your eyes when I say
“I want an open relationship”
I enjoy hearing you say “absolutely not”
It makes me feel safe.
It makes me feel chosen.

And we still don’t trust each other.
Trust and it’s funny flavor,
like something you pretend to like,
or have to develop a taste for,
like old cheese
and bitter beer.

We take a mouth full of trust
before every weekend apart.
We pretend it’s all we need
to stay full while you’re away.

Even though secretly,
we have to season it with our doubts.
We have to take big gulps of reaffirming love
Just to help wash it down.

I don’t like the taste of trust,
I just pretend to like it.
I pretend my palette is that refined,
like I’m mature enough
to understand
these complex and acidic flavors.

In reality I’ll spit into my napkin
And fill up on forgiveness instead.

Forgiveness will never
give me the same nutrition as trust,
but at least we can still devour each other.

and we only have to think about trust
And its bitter bloody flavor
On occasions when we have no other choice
But to pretend to be sated
like real adults

I almost think it’s better this way.
At least I know that you’re no guarantee
At least we’ll keep impressing each other
In a desperate attempt to keep one another loyal.

I’m almost grateful to
not know trust for its sweetness.
Serving piece of mind like a slice of pie.
The kind with sugar crystals baked on top.
Almost.

But then when I see others savoring
Their sweet trust,
Enjoying the deep oak romance and subtle floral notes.

my mouth starts to salivate
because even though it
leaves a funny flavor in my mouth.
I remember how soundly I slept
On a belly filled with trust.

Asphyxiant Aura

Your toxic energy seeps off of you,
Like steam off of a sizzling, hot radiator.
Your negative vapors, they poison the room,
And this version of you is your dictator.

Secretly, I hold my breath in your presence,
Lest I’d inhale the stench of your misery.
I cant accept your darkness into my life
Because my light has a very dark history.

I resist with all my might, but my will is finite
And your pernicious atmosphere is intrusive.
It brings me back to a place of childish fear,
Vile vibrations familiar, and very abusive.

It’s disruptive and destructive,
And now you’re mind has been corrupted.
You’re distrustful and disgusted
By your formerly beloved.

You’re defensive and combative,
Because your guilt is massive.
Your bitter nature begets bad vibes,
Even when you’re being passive.

I can see your dark cloud looming,
Turning and twisting over head.
I’d love to breathe you in, one last time;
To see you happy, before you are dead.

Celestial Ancestry

If the earth is my mother
And my father is the sun
The moon must be a mirror,
It’s the perfect place to reflect.

Wake Up

I’ve not been awake much these past 10 years.
I’ve been tired, uninspired, and living in fear.
When you’re down life’s lessons are lost and unclear.

Drifting through life without participating.
Wanted love
but got stuck
in cycles of self deprecating.

Those who know me, who love me, they’d say
“But you were there! I saw you day after day.”

I wasn’t.

What they saw was my empty shell.
No one ‘saw’ me.
My eyes were lying and no one could tell.
I hid it well.

I didn’t mean to toss out my youth.
I didn’t mean to sleep through this life.
It wasn’t intentional, the way I existed uncouth
But my pain was ripe,
my trauma, my drama was rife.

I was in hiding. I was stuck in waiting.
I needed to heal, but to be numb is placating.
So I drank my strength and smoked my zen,
I did what I could to avoid feeling again.
Couldn’t see that my life and my light was abating.

I wasn’t raised to be a weak woman
At what point do I decide that enough is enough?
It’s time to fight for the joy I want in this life,
It’s time to do better.
It’s time to be tough.

Sweet Tooth

I have always been a fan of Sweet Things.
My abuelo used to cut the husks off of sugar cane
So we could chew and suck on the sweet center.

I’m still childish for a fluffy spindle of cotton candy
how it melts on my tongue
And then disappears in an instant

I never found the natural sweet of sugar cane lacking
Nor the “artificial” sweetness of my cotton candy cloying
In these things I take pure pleasure

Now I have a lover, And he’s got the sweetest center.
He lets me chew him up and spit him out
He melts on my tongue but doesn’t go anywhere.

His sugar is coarse and rewarding.

Love the Oppenheimer way

Do you want to destroy me
so that no one else could enjoy me?

Growth Goals

I’ve been waiting around for change to come,
To fall out of the sky and land in my lap.

I’ve been hoping a new version of myself would emerge,
Dripping down my rough edges like tree sap.

I want to feel my bark split apart,
Making space for the ‘me’ that I am as of late.

I’d like my expansion to occur in my sleep,
Evolution should come quick if it’s innate.

Like any young tree, I want to grow tall!
I want to feel the wind blowing through my leaves.

Like any old seedling, I want to grow strong!
want my roots to reach down deep with ease

I want to learn stand my ground in opposition
And hold my own self down in the breeze.

generalization generation

The rich
Make haste
create waste
Have “taste”

The poor
Make art
Have heart
Respect their mother.