late at night

chemicals in my brain react

to whispers of vanguard

dissolved by a little pill

served by my new corner pharmacy

rooted in mannerisms of expectation

seeking performance aside from revelation

feeding the emptiness of melancholia

weighing high functioning cycles

exhausting every tear possible

as raiding disruption

turns into abduction

clinging to images of bare comfort

membranes dissolving desire for the unconscious

claiming ability for

failing repeatedly

to hold conversion

as shifts of redemption

yet replace temptations

with shifts of perception

you know what bothers me the most? it’s never how much someone pulls away, or how they read your scars with self-diagnosis, how they judge your responses.

it’s the lies. the lie of their care. the lie of their fear. the lie of their contempt.

am I so gullible to think that still, through the lies, I can love you? I must be so crazy to see your pity as high regard. I had forgotten that silence perceived feels anxious but understood can be weaponized.

I must be a fool to answer the questions I know I can’t even answer to myself. you make me brave the same way you make me weak, with a curiosity to feel the ether of my beginnings yet inspect the scars near the ends.

It must be some gift to make the storyline so real, so raw, to watch the different paths dissipate with a tap.

Distance has never seen me grow, it has always seen me drown.

I’d forgotten that the only ear that hears me scream at night is mine, the one that wakes up in tears, remorse, fear.

yet here I am, wondering who will get to hold your hand at night when you can’t sleep, dry your tears when you can’t beat em, and dream to live with you.

sera ya?

sera ya que se me agotaron las estrellas?

que el cielo llego a mirar mi destino y dijo,

cuantas ganas que le faltan a estas pilas de recargarse

cuanta pena que las ganas que no tiene se fugaron a otra galaxia.

Aveces me siento como la arena fuera del mar,

permeable y absorbente, pero no luminante

con granos que forman escondites para los que ni al espejo le creen la farsa

formando huellas tan profundas sintiendo de cada carga inesperada y aguda

paseando solo cuando fluye el viento migrante que no lleva trazos ni de origen ni destino.

Una arena que se molda y endurece, que se ajusta y asimila

se sostiene de pie con formaciones de manos

con visiones de proposito y delirio

Aun asi,

esas manos aprenden a usar los rastros de tal arena para borrar las visiones que hormigueaban en sus manos

le conversan al viento que el mar borra en cuenta regresiva y que a cero llegara la arena a puñetes o a oleadas

Sera que cuando se agotan las estrellas el cielo las repone?

o sera que el cielo se mira en el mar y en cuenta regresiva descarga los rastros del propósito visionario de mis estrellas?

I miss you,

so much that it scares me to see you.

Would you be mad if I told you?

my love for you sings in silence.

I heard your voice in the cabin of my car

driving to see you while getting high,

shaping my symptoms from falling behind

telling you I lied, I wanted to cry.

These times I wanted to hide,

that these days of being alone have

given me the strength to pass life by.

I thought of an intro much livelier than that,

an extrovert who dreams of your silence rather than your sigh.

Sometimes I think about what I’ve left behind,

consuming energies darker than mine

all for performing a damn fucking lie,

regretting the lone nights I didn’t have

What is an extrovert in bed called?

a loud scream for peace absent of goodbye.


Mostly identified as unspoken, silence, in my opinion, is the most emphatic of languages.

Silence has been my coping mechanism for a lot of 2018 as the most challenging times arose and then simmered as time passed.

Silence is like binary code, it’s an action-led motion, emotion, and emphatic feeling. It’s tap into the psyche and an escape out of the noise. Silence digests and feeds, it troubleshoots and rewires.

As I began this year, I began hopefull and filled with life. I came back to Miami with nothing but good intentions and lessons learned to reinforce and fortify with habits. I was so ready to take on the world, as I saw it, feeling invincible after surviving the reinsertion of my childhood trauma and failing to speak to my father, in simple terms, for closure sake.

However, I made the mistake of latching onto too much too fast and too strong. I fell in love deeply for the first time. I fell for someone who began to love the idea of burying their misery beneath my admiration but when confronted with my affection ran away faster than I could open and close my eyes one last time.

See, the thing about growing up in an abusive household under both physical and emotional abuse is that the thing you grow up fearing the most in life is abandonment; even when it comes from your abuser. And that exact feeling, under centuries of dependent and exhaustive relationships, triggers deep depressive states filled with loneliness and unquenchable sadness. And thankfully, gladfully, and obviously, this exact feeling overcame me this year, especially in the Spring while I attempted to fight my demons to not lose everything I had worked so hard to achieve for the past 5 years; graduation.

I was confronted with learning how to put myself aside to make room for someone else’s love, affection, but also all of their bad habits and manipulative tendencies. I did this gladly and patiently but I also began fighting for them (us) too. Just like I learned to do when I was little; like I learned to scream to be heard over men and boys of my family and friends, like I learned to defend my mom from the wretched attacks that my father aimed at her spirit. I began to use one of my coping mechanisms to project love for others the way that I was taught to love and what love was; what it meant.

I have lived in silence from a lot of things this year because honestly, it all took me by surprise. I had no reaction and I’ve had nothing to say about my life and what I’ve suffered because I’ve had no energy to fight back for myself – I drained it all fighting for the wrong people at the wrong time and under the wrong circumstances.

This year I had to fight myself for change, for growth, for shutting doors that were mistakenly wide open. So that’s what I’ve been doing, fighting internally to live and wanting to keep living because sadly, the first alternatives that roll into my mind when attempting to fight against low defenses are to turn to very depressive and suicidal thoughts for reassurance and familiarity. Yet, as my beautiful soul sister and friend put it briefly and gracefully today; Khalas.

Khalas for now, to the redirecting and distracting away from distress.

It’s all come down like a hurricane this year, leading me to regretfully be unable to write one word down onto this canvas for months, and almost all of this year.

Writing about abuse is at the root of my understanding of my mental health issues and coping mechanisms. Yet, at the very core, digesting trauma almost always turns abrasive and relinquishing as I use my memory as my blindfold. Most things I can no longer remember until I write, see, dream, hear, paint, speak, and cry.

And that is what this season has been, a systematic binary driven silence. And that is how I am. That is how I’m doing. I’m suffering in silence like my daddy taught me because I’m still working on quitting my attachment to dependency on abuse to cope too. As I often use menace and anger to fight myself rather than talk to myself as the noise gets louder.

And I’m learning. In the distance, while I survive this season in silence.

As this year ends, I hope to gift myself the closure that those who have hurt me refuse to grant and I close my eyes every night wishing that these cycles of pain reverse into cycles of (pretty much anything) but these feelings that isolate my creativity and put a hold on my life.

I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss Ecuador, I miss traveling, but most of all I miss myself – the girl who left Ecuador sure of herself and her plans for the world. I can’t seem to find her at sunrise or in the waves that carry the sunset. Tell her I love her. She deserves to know.