Lo que no se cuenta



Un aplauso a
Todo eso que vive
Entre, tu mente y tu boca, y 
Que nunca llega a salir
Esos momentos tuyos
Que tuyos se han de quedar
Hasta dejar de existir

Eso que habita la mente en forma de recuerdo,
De furtivos momentos escondidos en la normalidad
Detrás de un "nada" hay toda una vida en un instante
Un instante de vida oculta y presa
Entre tu memoria y tu boca


Author's Notes/Comments: 

There will be a full translation of this poem, just be patient plis :) ly

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Treading Water


Sometimes I go back to that place.

The one I





Where I stood

in the sand

in the moss

in the grass

scattered with candy wrappers.


Where she left me

in the dark

and left herself again.


Where I was made

and everything broke.


Sometimes I go back to when

they would splash so I could hear them,

barely above water,

from where I stood in that lake

my feet on the ground.


I don’t want to leave the ground.


I should have left the ground that night.


The night I could not

love her and

keep her safe.


But in my head I’m still under four feet tall

and the water closes over my head

the diving board is

miles away.

I can’t tell how much I’m willing to give.


Drowning doesn’t seem real

until you want me to make it out there

and I am gasping as my mouth fills with

possible endings instead of air.


I run too fast when things get real,

treading water in time.

I swam out to the dock

for you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 7/17/19

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Safe Inside The Locket

That face is never getting old with time.
It still bring me close and you not afar
From time present. Small morning here dreams alone
And love-gate open, for memory to come home.
All things that make you who you are
Gifts and robs the soul at once:
Those blessings giving, and curses retaining
As they were with you,
They are with me here now.
Even death dust cannot touch the evergreen
Of grandchildren their days not yet seen.

Mists of Time

Light and Dark

“I had a child just like you”

She said to me that day

Waiting in the hospital

On my knees to pray

She didn't know who I was

Her mind just couldn't see

That I knew who she talked about

The child was truly me.


We'd had this converse once before

And many before that

The degradation of her mind

Was obvious, as she sat

And prattled on about her son

How happy he will be

With her family when she comes home

And I had to agree


She never found her memories

Or recognized my face

After everything she went through

She's in a better place

Where memories last forever

And can't be lost to time

Where human bodies don't break down

Always in their prime


Many years have come and gone

I can't recall them all

It's not like I haven't tried

But the thoughts just have a pall

I try to stare back to the past

Peer directly through the grime

Just like a fog covered my eyes

It's hard to see through mists of time

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Even When It's Not Christmas


I will not tell you

what I want to

in this world

Talking like that is

laying myself


such a steep hill

to start


When the words

open with a question

you can watch me



I don’t ask,

just wait,

maybe wanting

will make truth


but sometimes

when the wind blows

when the leaves fall

when the snow sticks

I don’t need questions or answers

when I’m this close to you


I could fall down at your door

I think I’d end up with

too many bruises

but I wouldn’t mind

as long as I can paint them on your wall

so your story knows

I was here


Sometimes that

silent crash

breaks the glass

around the world


The rustles say I’m a mess

but I’m a mess with you

under these Christmas lights


My heart is made of

answers that won’t break

The next time

it’s a dragon-cold night

I don’t have to tell you what I want

but I will still whisper it to the window

the fog will find your hands

and they will be around me

just when I need


and then the ground thaws

and you’re still here


you can’t know

how much that means

to me


Even when it’s not Christmas

I know there is someone

who loves me

I hope I can be that


for you

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 12/18/17

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I have hung everything I have

on this city.


I push pins in a pattern

write my own heart

on the map.


The minutes I can’t remember

for choking on nothing and laughter.


The nights the wind is so vicious

I breathe in brave and our bodies lift a little.


The change and the waterfalls

and the hearts

I resent for being

so worthy.


The cards I toss on the table

like silent truths that sit on my shelves,

I don’t have any other way to give them.


The kisses that can sing on their own,

I want you to hear you speak without words.


The quiet nights holding this pen,

hoping I can tell someone about everything and you.


You know

you are my favorite city

and the first place


I remember really waking up in.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 11/24/17

talk to the stars


what a perfect night

nothing better to do

than to sit down and talk to the stars.


tell them about the orange i ate this morning

and the songs we keep on stumbling

and all the beatings of my heart.



i wish someday we could meet

but sometimes your light finds me here.


tell them how

sometimes i care too much.

sometimes i forget to tell you how much.

sometimes there are no words left to spin into silver.


i cut off my hands because maybe then i can give you more.

won’t be stuck in this shell

with no golden hearts

trying to capture all the girls i’ll never be.


or maybe

just sit here

dreaming of planets

where no one has to shift the blame


take back the silent strangers

give me hurricanes instead

give me poetry and open highways

and corner cafes and music that won’t go quiet


give me something worth remembering,

something the stars might listen to.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 10/13/17

Permanent Marker (Slam Poetry)


There are so many ways

your words make it into my blood.


1. Melting into my skin

from absentminded pen marks.

I would take the pen away

but then I would be out of

these little autographs I want to keep.


2. Sometimes intended pen marks.

When I look at them

I don’t think I can tell them apart

from the accidents.

They come from

a laughing game of hide-and-seek

where you always find my hand

and I roll my eyes

as you leave yet another

little ink scar.


3. Something you need to

remind yourself of.




I am a human pile

of things you might forget.

I am not always so good at it

but for some reason

you keep dropping more items in the basket.


4. When I catch myself talking like you.

These little

words a few people laugh at

are stuck in my head,

tell me

I’ve spent too much

too little time here.


5. Pieces of paper you slip under my door

that remind me

how well you speak my language.

Sometimes I think

I met you just for the words.


6. The last thing you say

before you fall asleep.

In daylight I’m not sure why

it’s in some corner of my brain

labeled more important.

I didn’t think sleep did much for my memory

before I started waking up with you.


7. When your fingers drag

along my arm

or my face

or my sides.

The lightest touch

leaves an indent

I’m never sure I can erase

even if I wanted to.


8. Sometimes we speak

in permanent marker.

Say things we can’t take back.

We write our way into each other’s hearts

with every breath we take.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/25/17

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I would have kissed you

the first time you asked

but I would have regretted it

I want to know

you mean the things you do


Every time you find

something perfect

and hold it out to me

I try to find

what will mean the most

but I will never be able to carry

what I want to give you


Sometimes I wish

I could meet you


hold every feeling

in the palm of my hand

so I might someday know

who you are


I’m always guessing

what I think

when I can’t pinpoint

how you kickstart my veins


Sometimes I think

my guesses

might be right


when you smile like that

and I fall in love

a little bit



Sometimes I wish

I could kiss you

for the first time



when you were so here

I was bursting

when it was so new

I was awake

for no reason

and every reason

at once

and all I could taste

was this magic


It’s even better

now that I know

so much more of you

than your lips on mine

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/6/17

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