Heart of glass


She beheld a heart of glass,
Clear as day break,
And a pure love that fell fast
And loved deeply.
And while men would swoon
At the adornment that surrounded
The heart of glass that beat in her chest.
It was an empty existence
For the princess.
For jewels of the flesh
Bring instant pleasure.
Instant joy of sight and touch,
But no man wanted the true treasure.
She offered the jewels to few
And the heart of glass to fewer
And after many heart breaks
Began to hide from those who knew her.
She waited for the one
Who would never come
To see her heart of glass
Was actually a diamond.
So pure and transparent
A fool knew what he had not.
When he threw away the world
For a greedy thought.
So she fought off the knights
Who came banging at the cave
And in her rage
She began to change.
She grew tired of her delicate form
And her heart of glass began to transform.
She emerged a shield and firey breath,
And protected her soul from treacherous theft.
Her spirit grew wings
that she used to conquer shallow things
And her words became teeth
That shredded her enemies.
A monstrous beauty
That possessed no belief in mankind,
But prayed for an end of the pain inside.
No ordinary soul could
Slay such a beast,
So she waited for the one
To bring her sweet release.
For the heart of glass glimmered within
At the thought of real love and inner peace.



The Boy with Stars in His Eyes

There once was a boy

with stars in his eyes,

speckles of bronze,

in an ice blue sky.

He had a smile so sweet

that every girl he’d meet

would swoon and fall

under his spell.


The stars led him far from home,

and he’d go from town to town

to try and find the reason he roamed.

In the midst of his traveling ways

a 1,000 innocent hearts he did slay.

for the galaxies in his eyes

were filled with sweet lies

and his heart had a black hole

no one could ever fill.


Then came a day where

the Stars no longer shined,

and he prayed for a love

that was so hard to find.

yet in his soul,

he knew it was not

the destiny chosen for him

in the universe’s plot.

He asked the moon for guidance

each and every night,

but he chose not to see the light.

For even in his relflection

of his younger days

the stars were too much perfection,

the perfection that he craved.


So on the boy with stars in his eyes,

sought a life of meaning

that led to his demise.




Numb Fun

Lay in my bed,

help me forget.

come numb the pain,

I just want to feel sane.

Just close your eyes,

and I’ll tell you lies.

And we will do what we do

to get through this life.


Just hold me down

i don’t want to feel

anything but

your sex appeal

and while your hands

cant touch this stone heart of mine

they’ll keep me satisfied for a time.


You’re sweet to me,

but you’re the king of transparency.

I know what you want

so right now I’ll just be blunt

you don’t need to front,

because I need you tonight.

and after all is said and done,

and we’ve had our fun.

i won’t put up a fight

when you leave and say goodnight.


i don’t want to feel

anything but

your sex appeal

and while your hands

cant touch this stone heart of mine

they’ll keep me satisfied for a time.


Ive swallowed this pill before,

and while I hate it to my core,

its a fast fix when you’re lovesick.

so let’s play pretend

that I’ll see you again

because love isn’t easy

and this could be

if you’d just let me have

all of you tonight.

Fathered Day


I remember the day,
I remember it well.
When I found our two
Was now a three.
And how your heart seemed to swell.

Now here we are,
And we’re both twos
You’ve got her,
And I have Q.

And while I’m happy for you,
I can’t help but ponder
If the price we will all pay
For your heart that chose to wander.
Will be worth it to you
When you look back at this younger
Reckless self.

And while you expect a day for you,
the responsibilities you left Are heavy
and the life you’ve stolen was more than theft.
I’ll carry the weight of a two person team,
While you’re off living a care free life filled with dreams.
I’ll work two jobs to just make the means.
I’ll keep my promises for our son.
The little one who calls me Daddy,
Because you are gone.

Happy fathered day,
To a man who left it all.
You donated a cell,
When I sacrificed my life.
Because little hands mean more to me
Than the promises I made to you as your wife.

Thought to think

When I thought of forever,
I thought about you.
When I thought of ” who would never”
I thought of you too.
When I thought of What Is Love?
Your face was what I saw.
But now things are different
And I thought went to think.
When I think about you,
I remember about your lies.
I think about the promises you made
As you stared into my eyes.
I ponder about the things
that were never quite right.
Because now I see who you are
In this very different light.
I can feel the way I felt
When you left us by the side of the road,
How helpless I was as our son cried
And I knew we’d never go home.
I struggle with how you brought her in Ourhouse, and left me right in front of her
As she sat in my couch.
And you screamed at me for making your mouse cry.
I feel anger and resentment when my arms get heavy playing in the pool and your son is laughing , but you’re off being a fool.
I feel disgust when you are late to visit him and stink like cheap pot,
and that you “drive-by-parent”
To a child who doesn’t understand my lament.
I hated taking pictures at the zoo
And you weren’t there.
You were off in a trailer park while we saw polar bears.
I think about what you’ve done,
And I hope she’s worth these thoughts of mine.
Because you weren’t worth a moment of our time.


To “Her”

I laid my eyes on you
At the weakest moment of my life
You the mistress
And I the wife.
You sat on my couch
As he crumbled my heart
And watched him burn my life apart.
You made no expression
No confession of guilt
And for some reason
No strike against you
Was I able to wield.
I remember looking at you
And your curly brown hair,
And thinking to myself
“God this isn’t fair”
Because I was you once,
The girl he held dear.
I was thin and beautiful
And I had no fear.
Except that one day he’d replace me
Like all the others before.
And that day had come,
When you crossed
The threshold of my door.

Growing up light- being a pale minority.

When I was 12 years old I was going through my school papers and found my birth certificate. My last name was foreign instead of the German  last name I had known my entire life. I felt sick and confused on how no one had told me my entire life that I was Hispanic. This ethnicity that my mother’s family commonly made jokes about, and I heard many of their friends “playfully” discuss in inappropriate ways. I felt so lost and betrayed, because I was not even given the choice on if my name was to be changed or not. It was done for me, because my biological father had chosen to give me away before he went to prison. His family wanted nothing to do with me, or so I was told, because I was light. Why had no one told me about what I was?

When you look at pictures of my biological parents my mother is actually darker complected than my father. She was ” white”, but a high percentage of Native American. Her eyes were a beautiful green color, and that she blessed me with. My father had ” Hispanic” features; dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin, stereotypical dress, and unfortunately poor stereotypical actions that taint the Hispanic community’s image. He grew up very poor, and in a home with a lot of domestic violence. It played out like that cycle normally does, and he continued it with my mother and other women he saw romantically. He made a lot of bad choices, and one of them ended up costing my mother her life; She was only seventeen years old, and I was left an orphan a week after my second birthday.

My mother’s family loved and raised me like their own daughter, and I really didn’t ask questions until I was a preteen. They were trying to shield me from a lot of hard pills to swallow, but in doing so; They robbed me of a culture they had to deny to keep me safe, but then again I didn’t get the opportunity to be immersed in a culture that didn’t even want me.

Being multiracial is interesting, to say the least. You always feel out of place. For me I went through so many stages of trying to belong, and yet nothing I did was ever good enough for either side. In elementary school I lived in a 95% Hispanic district, and I was tortured. Kids threw rocks at me, hateful notes,  teasing, bullying to the farthest degree, and it wasn’t because I  was fat or smart. It was because I looked different. I didn’t speak Spanish, and I was the lightest girl in school. My eyes betrayed me with their green hues, while everyone else had golden brown. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my school, because I didn’t share their culture. They didn’t care that I was half Hispanic, they cared that I looked and acted differently. The self loathing set in, and my parents eventually moved school districts to a ” better school district”. I was then faced with the opposite problems.

The new school district was wealthy, and my family was not. I still stuck out like a sore thumb. I felt alone in a sea of light skinned people who had no idea what it was like to live on peanut butter and crackers for a week. I felt alone listening to Selena and trying to catch on to trendy clothes I could not afford. I was still different, and it grew worse the more I learned about my cultures.

In my teens I really threw myself into studying Latin culture, learning about all of my family, and trying to learn Spanish. It was incredibly important to me to feel that I understood myself completely. I wanted to give myself the cultural diversity that I was entitled to. I eventually met my father’s family, and it was difficult at times. He will be in jail until I’m  in my 30’s and although at one point we tried to write each other; He is emotionally unstable.

I learned some important things on my quest however. I learned that although my family is Mexican, most of them are easily traceable to Spain. Hints, why I Am very olive skinned but light. My paternal grandmother and I were actually the same color, we look very similar. I spent time with some of my family and they taught me how to make traditional foods like Migas, Tamales, flautas, and most importantly to me Tortillas. For a while I felt complete, but then I felt inferior again as they too began to joke. My ” white” was coming out, or that I couldn’t understand because I was so light. I began to feel a cultural difference in myself when problems arose, and I didn’t want to get into fights. Eventually the self loathing came back, and I spent a few more years trying to come to terms with myself.

The problem I encounter at least once a week is with my name. “Teresa” in the south is usually assumed to be with a Spanish Inflection. I do not say my name that way however, and I’ve actually had people CORRECT me and tell me I say my name incorrectly. It astonishes me that people have the audacity to tell you that you pronounce your own name wrong, and then they continue to insult me by saying. ” Why do you have a Hispanic name if you are white?” This is where my temper comes out. I have to explain that I’m half Hispanic, and that Hispanic people aren’t just Mexican nor do they only come in one shade. We are a broad and proud culture filled with diversity ; all of which is beautiful. Usually they ignore me and go on to say I’m so “light”. I get to “have white privilege”, and they walk off. I loath it with every fiber of my being.

The other common question I receive is “What is your ethnicity?” And men commonly ask me if I am Italian. Both of those open up a bunch of other stereotypical generalizations that sort of disgust me. ” I love Hispanic women because they make great mother’s and are great cooks” or ” You don’t even look Hispanic; I’m glad” or my personal favorite ” You’re perfect, is there a white version of you?”  Yes, men actually say these things to me.

There are moments I even catch myself making fun of my cultures, and I regret it immediately. It’s not that I can’t take a joke, it’s that I don’t want to promote stereotypical ideas that weigh down either of my ethnicities. There are days I feel like I’m choosing one side over the other when I choose my hair color or use self tanner. I tend to think of myself as a person made from love. Despite the situation, two people from two cultures overcame their different upbringings and made me. I’m thankful for that everyday. It may not always be easy, because some people don’t understand what it’s like to feel like two people in a single body, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.

I still go into the local Mercado smiling with my blonde- blue eyed child, and I always see the surprise on people’s faces when I start speaking Spanish. Yet, more and more they start smiling back, and I feel joy when the Elotes vendor remembers my name and that I like extra chile in my cup. They are starting to see I’m not just the” white girl “, but I’m just a lighter lady.