You Hate My Cross (a poem)


I know you hate my cross but I love it.
You hate everything that it represents.
All the times you wrapped it around the rear view mirror,
I’d roll my eyes while you demanded you needed to see clearer.

It’s just a little bit of wood metal and a rope.
But it reminds me of a time when I had little hope.
That was before you and the kids and our beautiful life.
Before I ever thought someone would make me their wife.

I got it with the metro and kept it in the impala,
Now the impala’s gone, I was scared you left it on purpose.
It was back in 98 when I needed to escape away from him.
Bad breakups are called bad for a reason.

In a small mexican town that was built into a hill,
With a crystal clear brook cut between the trail,
I went through a church carved out of the stone,
Into a cave I felt so alone.

Before I could ask the Virgin Mary to help me understand,
A nun shoved a cross on a rope into my hand. 
She chastised me in Spanish and I just looked at her blankly,
Knowing that God would understand her as easily as he would understand me.

That crucifix kept me safe till the day I met you.
And it kept a us safe together every day since it’s true.
Because God has watched over us even when we haven’t looked out for him.
Even when we didn’t look out for ourselves and what separates us from him.

So the next time you finger my ugly brown cross, before you roll your eyes,
Remember that this is a part of who I am, raw, uncut with a few good tries.
When we put it in the next car remember all it represents.

The road I took that led me to you.
The hope, love and trust that I believed were true.
I know you hate my cross but I love it.
I love everything it represents.

In Passing (A Poem)


In Passing.

Lying in bed, pretending to sleep,

So I can hear the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Driving on a dark road with my hand wrapped in yours,

Just so I can feel you close.

Touching your hair, tracing your face,

Memorizing everything there is about you,

In passing.

These are the simple things I hold on to.

These are the moments I need

To get me through the coming days.

Remembering where we sometimes are,

In passing.

Laughing while you cook and I wash the dishes,

Flirting with brushed touches and gentle jabs.

Slow dancing in the living room when no one is looking,

Sneaking pecks of kisses in between the turns.

Looking into your smiling eyes, feeling content.

But it only stays long enough to remind me,

It’s in passing.

Let me (A poem)


I want to be your blanket.
I want to lie across you
with my head on your chest.
I move with you in a rhythm all our own.
Let me be your blanket.

I want to be your food.
I want you to feast on me for hours.
I want to know that I fulfilled you.
Your lips ripe with my juices.
Let me be your food.

I want to control your mind.
I want to steal your thoughts.
I want you to think of me with secret smiles.
Your time spent replaying our shared moments.
Let me control your mind.

Ode to the gym


I don’t do it to feel good,
Because it only feels good afterward.
I didn’t start because I suddenly needed it,
I’ve always needed it.
I didn’t do it to have a hot body,
That doesn’t happen over night.
I didn’t begin this journey to fail.

I go hard everyday for myself,
I’m not here to impress anyone.
If I fall I get right back up,
If you knock me down you better be faster than me.
There are no compromises.
There are no excuses.
There is only me.