native new yorker with dominican roots. writer of all things love, life, family, sex, friends and everything in between. a not so secret obsession with stringing along words to form perfect sentences - reflecting what the mouth can't say. 

History Lessons.

You know how they say everyone has a past?
Well I guess that’s true
Until I come along and
replace the way his voice feels like daggers when you answer his call
When I erase the way the thorns on his hands wrapped around you
And he disappears with his ego disguised as love 

So now the past doesn’t exist and when people see you,
They see you
And not his possession
They see you
And not his game
He sees you
And he sees happiness without him
He sees you
And sees everything he could never give you

Now you’re a garden of flowers denying him entry to places he’s never deserved
He realizes he never spoke your language and never knew how to read you

And now he wonders how someone like me can be fluent in all things that are you

I guess it’s time for him to wake up
Because everyone has a past and look how quickly you’ve become a part of his. 

Expired Exhibits.

Pay Me.