Dark Gray

Your true color is dark gray, muddy, half devoid of substance as if it couldn’t be enough. Your halo is gray and tilted to one side and I saw cracks in your demeanor. For a while I looked at myself and saw some of you reflected as I slowly turned light gray from a pure white. Your color is dark gray, beautiful, but grimy and it brings me down and I wonder what it must feel like to carry that weight with you of pouring out uncontrollably as you hold on to fragments from when you fell to the floor and shattered. I am an act of self-love, in constant motion, and ever so willing to give the little pieces of light that I hold in my hands, but I can’t share that light if all you’ll do is obscure my path.


Watery Reflections

So ethereal, the way the water pools into my cupped hands; its velvety caress and the cacophony of unpatterned rhythm lure me in to a tantric state. The being becomes what it surrounds itself with, the enlightenment comes from acceptance and awareness of this magical world around us. I am on a higher plane and outer space can be so refreshing.

Super Blood Wolf Moon

The fronds rustling in the chilled air and a wolf’s moon gently watches as I inhale and exhale smoke from within my soul and out towards the night sky. She looks down with her red face soon to be eclipsed and a secret nod occurs between us. She is a protector—moon goddess—and I am a loyal servant. In my sensuality I extol rituals in her name as invisible, glittering strings grow from within me and dissipate into energy like the smoke exiting my lungs. Each breath is an intention, each inhale is a collected pool of energy brought further in to my body. The moon wears a red veil and I am naked, barren without need for shrouds. No clouds exist between us now and soon we will become one.

Half-Baked Innocence

Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.

It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.

What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.

You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.

Wishing for Rain

I don’t take drastic measures, they must seem that way. I only take measures to reach what I hope to achieve. Last year I learned when I should cut back the ill growth of this fragrant rose bush that I am trying to cultivate. I have already learned this year when to let go of leaves that are meant to fall. For the greater good, I make choices because there is no point in holding on to thinly dangling foliage. I have also been in the process of learning how to fertilize and in learning when it is necessary to cut back excessive growth–My roots dig in deeper into this rich soil. It is all love in this horizon; it’s just that love sometimes might hurt a little in some places. I hope I have the willpower to heed the words of the wise and the courage to stand alone as I cultivate this Golden Celebration.

Lo que quedó/What Remained

Lo que quedó


No entiendes que lo que mas mata es el no querer. El no quiero responder, el no quiero reconocer, no quiero ver la verdad. El no quiero persistir en conversaciones desfavorables, no quiero dejarte saber los pensamientos que existen en mi. No notas que el no querer me causa animosidad, desafío, y el desvanecimiento de sentimientos que he trabajado diligentemente para construir dentro de mi. Aquí dentro existe un vacío que no llenas, una puerta cerrada, y un vaivén de colores oscuros cuando tus palabras son insignificantes. Eso no significa que no valoro, que no entiendo, que no quiero. Eso solo significa que no permaneceré una instalación de constelaciones dentro de tus memorias.


Darle saludos al espacio que pronto será lo único que te quedará de mi.




What Remained


You do not understand that what kills most is not wanting to. The not wanting to answer, the I do not want to admit, I do not want to see the truth. I do not want to persist in unfavorable conversations, I do not want to let you know the thoughts that exist in me. You do not notice that not wanting causes animosity, defiance, and the fading of feelings that I have worked diligently to build within me. Here inside there is a void that you do not fill, a closed door, and a sway of dark colors when your words are insignificant. That does not mean that I do not value, that I do not understand, that I do not want to. That just means that I will not remain a fixture of constellations inside your memories.


Greet the space that will soon be the only thing you’ll have left of me.


Shattered Mirrors

Shattered fragments on the floor

From the broken mirror you placed purposefully.

You teach me that

People choose which pieces to reflect

Onto you and your hands

Simply so

That you can put them together to decipher the puzzle.

All I ask is for you to give me the less sharp fragments

So that my hands don’t bleed as I pick them up

Inspect them, research them

like the scientist that I am.

You know I will not stop until I solve the puzzle

Unless your glass shards slit my wrists.