My Radio: What I'm Listening To

"If I don't get it right, listen again."

Anything Could Happen - Ellie Goulding
Forrest Gump - Frank Ocean
City Boy - Donkeyboy 
Blow Me (One Last Kiss) - P!nk
Daddy - Emeli Sandé
Everybody Talks - Neon Trees
Latinoamérica - Calle 13 (w/ Totó la Momposina, Susana Baca, & María Rita)
Want U Back - Cher Lloyd
Lengua - Beatriz Luengo (w/ Shaggy and Toy Selectah)
Birds Fly Away - Theresa Andersson
Feel Again - OneRepublic
Beloved Freak - Garbage
Is Your Love Big Enough? - Lianne La Havas
The High Road - Joss Stone
Oh Maker - Janelle Monáe
Good Time - Owl City (w/ Carly Rae Jepsen)
Anything We Want - Fiona Apple
Stay - Sara Bareilles
A Lullaby for my Fictitious Children... - Maylee Todd
Guardian - Alanis Moriessette
Sunset - Stevie Wonder

I Write

I don’t pretend to be more than I am

I never studied the craft

and I don’t buy poetry books

I don't think I'm a poet

and these aren’t poems, really

These are just random,

silly,

mostly incoherent musings—

simple ramblings

and outbursts of feelings

Things from inside my wicked self

My heads

(yes, there are two)

and this heart

speak like this

I’m no poet,

but I write.

Conflicts V

I thought for a while I could love him

but now I realize I just want to sleep with him

I could care more for his dick

than I ever could his heart

knowing now the things I know about him and all

And I know I should be ashamed to feel this

to reveal this, even

but I'm not
There's no hint of shame whatsoever
Though that’ll change after I let him inside me, I'm sure.

Hiatus

I haven't written much lately because I haven't been inspired to.  I've been on a hiatus of sorts from here again.  It's a good thing, though. I mean, in some ways it's a good thing. I usually write when I'm sad and heartbroken.  I'm neither of those things, thankfully, so there hasn't been much to write about.  There's also a great big cloud of laziness hanging over me so that's partially to blame. Anyway, it's September. I usually get the ball rolling again in September.  So, that's the goal. I'll do my very best to write stuff here because there are dreams to achieve and this is the best way to practice.  I'll be around more often. 

Drunk Rant

How many love letters do you get

a day

a week

or even a year?

How many stupid sonnets do they write,
these love-obsessed queers
and girls
you like on Tuesday but give up on Thursday?
Your big dick dangling across their faces,
slapping them silly on occasion
their twisted eyes
on ecstasy,
'cept they don't swallow a pill,
just you...
Boom,
bashing,
puncturing tiny vessels
and great big walls
without a moment's care
'cause they're there
and why not take advantage of every situation,
er, person,
and make fake-love to these dreamers
as they create in their heads
clichéd thoughts and stories in the form of fucked up sentences
all arty and the like
anticipating their ride home
on a dirty, dangerous subway line
iPod on deck
so they can jot down the stupid memory on a writer's application
and remember, for always,
the pretty little liar that you were
the liar they didn't see and won't see for some time, really
'cause it takes time to wake up from the dream
and what you won't know
or rather, 
what you will know but will choose to ignore or let go,
is the sad fact that these people,
these lovers 
will spend numerous moments of their lives
reflecting on your days together
un-sent love letters pouring out
the notes going from glee
to pity 
recounting false love and
miscommunicated declarations of affection
recalling
that motherfucker with a bat 
so big
so strong
so brown and Dominican

Basically

Perhaps, after all this here—
after all of these miles and miles of lines—
in the end, after all, what i meant to say was:
it's amazing that your love was mine.

Lost One

If I asked God to take over,
I wonder if he’d be willing

or would he laugh

and give me the finger.

“Not a chance,” he’d most likely say.

Because I’m so lost
and there is no hope.

Wake Up!

Humble yourself,
you stupid idiot
and don't let him go
Because he’s all the man that you need
He smiles at comics
and rides the subway with his mommy
A tough heart, yes
but he’s real sweet
if you settle in
and rest on his knees
You’ll see.

Rebound

I bet now I’ll taste you for at least six months

like in the morning,

no matter how long I brush my teeth

or when I shower,

even if I decide to eat my soap

with every meal,

like an added spice,
there you'll be

and it’ll take great will

to keep from vomiting

“it’s like I’m making love to you,” you said that night

all enthusiastically

so giddy like a kid

and I closed my eyes really tight to pretend

you were anyone else I’ve ever been with

“Mmmhmm,” I fake-moaned into your brown ear

as I cried

and you didn’t notice

Dirty Thirty

I didn't cry
like I thought I would
and that's all that matters.

Crooked

What’s it say about my ex-boyfriend if he takes his hoes to my favorite restaurant?

What’s it say about me if I hope they all choke on an empanada?

Back to Hell

never let him know
all the things i wish to let go...

like how i hope his heart falls off while he's defecting
or his tears burn his fat brown cheeks as he cries
no, i'll never tell him this is how i feel
because it's wrong
and i'd never wish the devil back to hell
because it's not my job to
and as frustrating as it may seem
as life-threatening almost
to watch him live, and hope, and dream
i know
he'll be taken care of
he'll get everything he gave to me
and all the other desperate lovers
one day

so, no, i don't have to say 
or do a damn thing 
to expedite his demise
i'll just wait,
be still,
and be nice

I Am Yours Forevermore

I loved you years ago
I love you today
I'll love you years from now
Every minute of every day

And every single time you ask me to be yours
even if I'm someone else's and you belong to someone, too
There I'll be
Running right back to you

Shit

How deranged are we
to see
things differently
you,
me—
under the sea...
him,
you—
everything!

Only Fools

I don’t even want him anymore

but it hurts

I pushed him away

little by little

and now that he has finally taken the hint, I have regrets

I shouldn’t’ve told him not to call

anymore

because he stopped

so easily, and without a fight!

And every single time I see him, I hate him for not suffering

He still smiles at all the people who pass by,

still wears those manly fitted clothes and those dancing shoes

prancing and eye-selecting

the future boos,

his life’s no mess

but look at me---

hunched over and salivating...

I stopped wanting him

and for doing the right thing and sending him off,

I’m the one who's suffering

Meanwhile, he’s the reject who’s still shinning

and he doesn’t deserve to!

The maneater with his little dick and beautiful face

picking ugly flowers for the ugly ducklings who flock to him at a moment’s notice

whilst his super boyfriend waits at home for him to finish picking

dedicated to the cheating man because who can break away from such a smile!

Only a fool

like me