I'm told to be proud of my Mexican-americanness To use it in the work But maybe my work will always be bland and confused Because I do not know where the Mexican begins or where the American ends Is my mexicanness the bangs I cut in my bathroom with craft scissors is it my father… Continue reading How do you measure who you are?
my mother said Si te barro los pies no te vas a casar o encontrar amor, recuerda de levántarlos If I broom your feet you won't get married or find love, remember to lift them just one of many superstitions my mother inherited from her mother I've done almost everything right, followed the rules, read… Continue reading the curse of the broom
Another abstract painting done by me. I'm aware I am not a good painter or that I even can. But I kind of like choosing an image from the poems I write and visually painting them with color and shapes. I spend my Friday morning playing a game of "he likes me, he likes me… Continue reading A Friday in Three Parts
Abstract drawing of a hibiscus flower done by me Mami says the hibiscus agua fresca tastes bitter because it has been here too long And I wonder if she thinks the same about herself She says this country does not love her and she won’t stay where she is not wanted But I secretly think… Continue reading Hibiscus Agua Fresca- a poem
I want to tell my mother about the knot in my throat About how It’s been lodged there for a decade how I’ve told her before without ever using the word “knot” or “throat” How I wished, hoped that this mother-daughter bond would include intuition or telepathy About how its been there so long I… Continue reading Untitled #2
How do you move on? Do you do it slowly, like a tightrope walker, a delicate balance between safety and doom? Do you pack up everything you have left into a box and make a run for the back door? Do you hand in a notice and lay it all out on the table? Do… Continue reading How Do You Move on?
The tempting sunlight Cheek pressed against the window woosh, goes the winds song -Annette
Mid day rain from out you came Awoke in me my timid state Real life does not include "you and I" Killing time until I find Someone else with the same eyes -Annette
Of all the walks I've walked, tonight I pine For Philly air to brush right through my hair To wander through the streets without a care To laugh in Parc under twilights bright shine I still feel the buzz running through the air As we moved to the beat of living free Living new life… Continue reading Of All the Walks I’ve Walked
It is crazy to think That people I don’t talk to anymore Carry puzzle pieces of that night Things I said Things I kept For someone I knew, their memory of my story is pink and yellow Someone else might have known there was more I didn’t say Even now When I bring it up… Continue reading Puzzle Pieces+A long P.S.