Hanging loosely on the wall.

Every day there for all.

Walk up to it for a peak.

Shining back, pale and meek.

See yourself in its rims.

Your reflection grins.

For this is not you,

But what is true.

Deep desires locked away.

All come out to play.

Reveal themselves to the world.

Nature of heart is swirled.

Molded to show

What you wish to not know.

Monstrosity and sin

Is what you have been.

Hide it all from your friends

Family and all that bends.

But you can’t deny what’s true

This is the real you.






As I walk down the hallway,

I notice there is many things to see.

If I look into the eyes of others

I will see what they wish no one else to see…

As I think back on my life,

I have heard evil.

I have seen evil.

I have done evil.

Spoke it; dreamed it;

Wished it; even more!

It is all around me…

… It is in me…

Some people like to share…

Some like to care…

Some like to experiment…

Some don’t even dare.

If you look at me, what do you see?

A shy smile; a modest form;

A soft voice; a pink blush…

Yet is it real?

Don’t ask me.

I won’t tell.

I can’t tell,

For I don’t know myself…

Am I so good at

Hiding my feelings that

No one will ever believe

That This is how I am?

Am I a sheep in

Wolf’s clothing,

Or is it the other

Way around?

I know how I can be…

It is so easy…

To let it all out,

And ruin it all.

If I do snap

And not turn back…

…Will I change


I am tied…

I am bound…

I’m on the floor…

…To lure you in.

You see me,

Helpless and scared.

Your hand reaches to help,

Then I smirk and chain you there.

It’s all a trick!

It’s all a lie!

I am sick!

I am deprived…

You are shocked.

You ask why.

I bound you more.

“You are mine.”

I have my way.

You have no choice.

You are my pet.

I am torn.

I don’t want to hurt you!

But I love to see blood…

I don’t want to hurt you!

But I love to see tears…

I am sick! I am sick!

How can I think that way?!

I will release you… but

… Will you stay?

I can be loving.

I can be caring.

I can be submissive.

Will you help me?

I have calmed.

I am at peace.

But I may snap again…

…Don’t leave, please.

I can be controlling.

I can be obedient.

I can be sadistic.

I can be healing.

I am two.

Not one.

I love it both!

I can’t choose at all.

If you like soft,

But not demanding.

If you like it rough,

But not sweet.

You are not for me.

You buy one

You get the other.

Like an Airheads Extreme.



Prayer for the Mute

I’m sorry I’m not perfect.

I’m sorry I can’t give you everything.

I’m sorry I can’t be there all of the time.

But most of all, I’m sorry I ever

Tried anything for you…

Crystalline drops of sorrow and rage

Forever flow until there is

The bitter and cold emptiness

Inside with nothing to

Replace what has been lost…

The pit is near and once one

Jumps there’s no turning back.

What awaits at the bottom?

Death or solitude?

Time to make a choice: face truth or run?

Fall Forever.

Won’t sing or breath is stolen.

All is calm as the wind caresses ones soul.

Can only wait for the soil

And listen to songs of everyone on the ledge watching.



If I Ruled the World…

“…Every man would be slaves and every woman would be belly dancers.” This is the line I pitched to my closest friend when we were in our first years of college. Both of us were stressed about our individual classes at UTPA as well as our immediate lives and situation. For years, we’ve calmed down and distracted each other with ideas for stories. Most fell down the drain, but not that day. “If we ruled the world, every man would be a slave and every woman would be a belly dancer.”


As our laughs mingled something stuck. What kind a world would it have to be in which almost every person was in one class below. We talked for month on end about the idea in between school and work. Created countries, characters, government structures, and the works. This wasn’t the only novel we developed together and it was far from single digits compared to those we made ourselves.


Stories can come from any inspiration, stress or everyday life. Sprouted in the minds that are willing to take a second look at a joke and go “Hey, yeah! Imagine a world where every man is a slave and every woman is a belly dancer. Why is that?”



Confession 2

As I look down the empty hallway, the light pouring in through the screen in the sky, I can’t help but to see a smiling face in the distance. His eyes are deep and confusing. You can both see what he feels but are clueless to what he desires. Dark hair, thin form, tall stature. Who knew this boy would impact my life so much.


My name is of no significance; it is his that resonates within the dark recesses of my crowded mind. Person A, the name of my first love. I never thought this would happen to me. Freshmen year was the most wild and friendliest of my life. Running around, spinning until I dropped, so on and so forth. The life of a “naïve” girl trying to regain her childhood. I met Person A once before high school. He defended me from a so called friend who had spread horrid rumors about me.


We met once again during the second semester of his sophomore year. He was very secluded and withdrawn from everyone except his best friend, Josh. I remember walking to the bus stop everyday after school and see them laughing and conversing with each other, but as soon as he saw me he’d clam up. To me he seemed very lonely being by himself, so I continuously invited him to sit at the morning table and join me and my other friends. Within the week of him agreeing, I began to hug him. He was very nervous and timid about the closeness we shared in those brief embrace, but never shoved me off. Do not be mistaken, for I had no feeling for him at that time that I do now. I merely thought he felt like an outcast and wanted him to feel welcomed to the nosy group. He eventually warmed up after words and allowed me to do so. On the last day of school, he saved my grandfather’s memorial for me. We snuck into the building together after countless administrative personal kept trying to usher the students out. He led me to my locker so I could retrieve it and gave me comforting words to ease away the tears I had on minutes before.

Over summer, we spent day after day chatting on Yahoo!, GaiaOnline, and MySpace (along with another friend of mine). Needless to say, we fell in love. Over the course of my sophomore year we spent every day in each other’s company. Holding hands, sharing secrets of the past, and supporting one another in our schooling. No need to ask, because Yes! I did love him, too much really. He was a very jealous boy, however, and was never comfortable with me hugging my other friends (especially the boys). In November, he got into a huge argument with my best friend Person F and they both forced me to choose between them. I would hear nothing of the sort. I vowed to never take sides and tried to persuade them that this was not the right answer. Person A respected my opinion; Person F hated it. We were nearly ostracized, an experience I once had in elementary and not a very pleasant feeling, by her from all of our other friends. In February, she confronted me and I agreed to a truce without his consent. He hated her after seeing the way she made me cry on my birthday, and was very displeased with the actions that I took. Honestly, I only wanted peace.


In May, we shared our first break up. I was distraught, literally sick with grief. I was absent for almost a week because of it. He felt as though he had done nothing but upset me during the late of our relationship and tried to save me from more hardships, the fool. After seeing my pain, he made the decision to make up for what he had done. We were back together by the end of the month, with my parents’ disapproval.


That summer, we spent time talking on the phone, chatting on Yahoo! Messenger and “dating” on GaiaOnline. My parents were cruel in their strict policy. With these few rules, we were never allowed to go on an actual date. It would later be an indirect fault of more strife. After our first year anniversary, he was introduced to these two younger girls by a good friend of mine. Person D and Person C the pair that split us. In all fairness, I shouldn’t say anything wrong of Person C, for she didn’t try to wedge us apart. Person A and I were warned, however, by other friends of Person D’s malicious behavior. At first we took it seriously, but as weeks progressed Person A turned a blind eye towards the comments she’s say about and to me. Knowing fully well of my self-loathing attitude, she verbally attacked me with statements of how I was holding him back. Only a few times did I actually try to defend myself, which earned a scorn from my heart’s desire.


Once school started up again, we eventually drifted. He was busy with his new friends and senior duties, while I took on the role of supportive wife in the background. I knew he thought of leaving me for one of the two, so I did the one thing that could prevent him from turning into the being he hated the most: a cheater. I broke us up for his sake, and he turned it around on me. He made me regret it with his shouts of love and hurt. What hurts even more now is the fact that he was planning to do the same. Two weeks after our “fight”, he called me asking for help. He had been caught dating both Person D and Person C by the said girls. I couldn’t help him, I hurt too much.


After a month of separation, he came into my life again in January hoping to rekindle the friendship. It worked for a while, but was strengthen to his advantage after I got into an argument with Person F. He saw me crying after school because of what she said to me. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened, but he guessed it all. He’s my ex, of course he’s going to know what bother’s me. The next day Person A confronts her and is dragged out at the middle of lunch before it gets physical.


After spring break he took advantage of my trust. To summarize those three months, we dated in secrecy. I had fallen so low as to be a secret girlfriend while he dated the other in public. According to him, Person C knew and did not mind, but I find that very unlikely. After his graduation party, we argued about where our friendship stood. Did he even love me at that point, or did I become someone to take his frustrations out on?

I never found out and to this day I try to break all connections with him. He is blocked on almost all of my accounts. I will probably never forgive him for saying he was glad I might never have the chance to have a child. People say that I should forgive him so he won’t have power over me, but in my opinion: How can I forgive someone who won’t say he is sorry?

The moral of my little story is: be careful of who you give your heart, too. Person A was from a good family: his mom a paralegal and his step dad a firefighter. My dad and his step dad graduated together while my mom worked with him. Every teacher whom we had shared told me how good of a boy he was and how lucky I was to have him. He proposed to me three times! There is no excuse for being ignorant. My first love changed into a disaster because of the influence of a middle school girl.




A Russian proverb states “Once a word shoots out of your mouth, it cannot come back.”

Agree or Disagree?



“I can always find someone else…” these were an ending statement to a joke that have echoed throughout my life. I had said them to my mother in false confidence when she kept making banter about our current relationships. Of course I never felt arrogant enough to believe I can just dump a boy if he didn’t agree with everything I said… but at the time I didn’t know we were being overheard in the mall when shopping for prom dresses.


Two months later, these words came back to haunt me as my then love interest asked me if I truly saw his as disposable. Years have passed and when people ask me what I regret about in high school, this echo bounces back through my ears. It didn’t matter that I didn’t mean it, nor that he was ever meant to overhear it. Taken out of context or not, ‘Once a word shoots out of your mouth, it cannot come back.”