In This Castle

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🕯️ About the Castle I am the castle. These halls creak with memory. Some walls have wept. Some still do. Each room you enter here each piece of writing—is something I couldn’t keep inside any longer. My thoughts live like dust in the corners. My stories breathe through the cracks. You’re not just reading… you’re wandering through me. You’ll find: Diary pages dressed up as poems Holy things broken and glittering on the floor Flirty whispers tucked between grief There is pain here. But there is also hope. Somewhere between the ache and the softness, the candle never quite goes out. If you’ve come looking for something quiet and real—welcome. I won’t give you answers. I’ll give you rooms. Some may be locked. Some might know your name. Stay a little while. Or longer.
  • I Wonder if She Thinks About Me

    I Wonder if She Thinks About Me

    I wonder if she thinks about me when she is alone.

    I wonder if she thinks about me when her children are being bullied at school.

    I wonder if she thinks about me when she goes to the city that has my name.

    I wonder if she thinks about me when she looks at him.

    I wonder if she thinks about me when she’s having a bad day.

    I wonder if she thinks about me and all those ugly things she did.

    I wonder if she thinks about me when she is praying for forgiveness.

  • People Said

    People Said

    You know, people said you were all wrong for me.

    That I was high class and you were ghetto.
    That I was educated and you were nothing but a zero.


    People assumed you were a thug with substance abuse,
    They didn’t know all that you refused.

    I heard them say you changed me, that I am different.

    It’s true, your love made me equivalent.

    I no longer lie, I no longer hide. I can defend myself, I can identify my wealth.

    If only those people had what I have, they wouldn’t be hating; they wouldn’t be mad.

  • A B U E L I T A

    A B U E L I T A

    When I was little I hated when my abuelita made my chocolate milk.

    She never left chocolate powder clumps.
    My abuelita would mix the milk and the chocolate powder so well and so perfectly, I would cry.
    I wanted chocolate powder clumps in my milk dammit!
    We saw things differently.
    But today I raise a glass of perfectly mixed chocolate milk to the sky.
    Gracias por el chocomil Abuelita.

  • This Kiss

    This Kiss

    He had been asking me for a kiss.

    I told him I’d probably be bad at it.

    It had been 8 years since my last kiss.

    He simply responded with, “it’s okay, I will teach you”. That made me chuckle.

    He took my breath away; his lips were unbelievably soft. His lips felt like warm marshmallows. His mouth was sweet. It surprised me; I almost fainted.

    My fingertips were tingling; I was dizzy and the whole room was turning. So delicately, I had to tell him to give me a minute which made him laugh.
    My cheeks burned and I could feel all the blood in my body pumping through my heart.

    I thought, “how is this possible?”

    I loved this kiss.

  • Hello Old Friend

    I am here.

    Still here.

    I hope you can understand why I stopped writing. I stopped because sometimes there is nothing to say.