A Different Kind of Love

Last night I spoke with my heart.

See, we have not been in tune for a while.

It had been occupied for more than 15 years.

It belonged to someone else.

Actually it mostly belonged to him.

But I was not happy.

I could not make my heart understand what my eyes saw,
what my gut felt.

But my heart was happy.

But when finally we had the courage to tell my heart enough is enough.

“Can’t you see how many times you have shattered.?”

“Can’t you see how many times you have been broken?”

“Look around you heart, my eyes are red and tired from the countless nights of no sleep. Look at gut see how churned up he is because of the nerves. Look at brain stressed for the countless fights and the countless thoughts. Heart you have to let go. One day you will shatter and we wont be able to repair you again.”

Finally my heart decided to follow the rest and painfully said goodbye.

I thought it was the end.

I thought that we would all finally sync up and be happy.

But then my heart began to feel sad.

Everyone else was happy. But not my heart.

One day my heart said it saw something beautiful.

It made him feel all warm and happy.

My heart saw your soul.

The most pure and beautiful thing.

My heart was no longer sad when you are around.

But my eyes did not see what heart saw.

Nor did gut feel all twisty and bent.

My brain was against it and does not think it possible.

But my heart was happy.

It ignored what everyone else thought.

It saw right through you.

It saw your soul.

Your soul, is kind and bright.

No matter what, it makes my heart feel loved and cared for.

Just because your there.

Not like the others.


My heart feels special for some reason.

He makes us feel special.

My heart is in love.

This love is unlike any other.

Its a different kind of love.



She’s Hurt

At night she sits, with tears in her eyes.

Recounting the events, that play in her head.

But why does she cry?

How can it be that the love can be so painful.

Love was beautiful, love was ecstasy.

Not screams in the night or arguments, fights.

She relives her mothers life.

How did she get here, what did she do wrong?

She’s hurt.

Blood slowly trickles from her forehead,

As the tears stream down her face.

He was angry, She was wrong.

She’s hurt

Trying to think what to do differently,

trying to think how to make him happy.

She’s hurt.

Part of her wants to run,

Part of her wants to stay.

She’s hurt

“I’ll run to mom”

but she will tell her to stay.

“I’ll run to my friends.”

but they will take him away.

She’s hurt.

Not knowing that love is not suppose to hurt.

Not knowing that she can move on.

Not knowing she don’t need him by her side.

She’s hurt.

Not knowing her greatest weakness,

can be her greatest strength.

Not knowing she can get up and leave.

Not knowing that love is not lived that way.

Just knowing that she has to stay.

She’s hurt.

Knowing it’s going to happen again.

Knowing he’s not going to change.

Deep in her heart she wants that to be a lie.

Knowing she can potentially die.

Knowing she is alone.

Knowing that there is no love at home.

She’s hurt.

Her tears stream like rivers down her cheeks, mixing with sweat and blood.

She’s hurt.

Dear Lord if she only knew,

that you where by her side.

That your hand was stretched out waiting for her to take it.

That you could give her the strength to survive.

That she can stay alive. but…

She’s hurt.

Her strength is gone,

Her heart shattered to pieces.

The bruises, cover her body, cover her soul.

She is broken.









You torment me in my dreams…..

I have want to walk away,
But there you remain.
A sheer memory of what you are.
The love of my life.
The one that made my heart race,
with a very simple smile.
The one who made me feel,
like I was walking on a cloud.
I have never felt this love for someone else,
even though I tried.
For many years I put you aside
not understanding what you felt.
But i knew deep inside of me,
I did not want love of second hand.
I wanted a true love,
unconditional love.
But i did not believe you could give that,
So I walked away.
Not knowing how much I messed up.
I was never sure, you never told me.
I hate this feeling, I hate it I do.
Why did it have to be you?
But you have remained there,
through my stupidness,
through my downs,
through my ups.
Away, but you have been there.
I felt, that I did not deserve your love.
For me your love was pure.
And knowing how I was,
I did not want to taint it.
I came from a family that did not teach me,
what love is.
And you have a family.
They love you.
I hated everyone,
But I didn’t hate you.
How was I going to love you?
If I didn’t even love myself.
I cry at times wishing I was with you,
I wish I can feel your hugs your kisses again.
The way you looked at me,
the way you touched me.
I still remember I will always remember.
No mater how much I want to forget,
your memory haunts me til this day.

The lower ones 2

And I thought the Rescue Mission was bad. Welcome to Saint Vincent de Paul.

Welcome to Saint Vincent,

the community of the poor.

Where your room is full of bugs

and much much more.

The food is not so bad. It’s actually pretty decent.

But that is not the point I am trying to make.

the horrors of this place are just o so great.

For let me warn if you should enter here,

don’t expect for anyone to listen, my dear.

Because regardless of the bed bug bites, the fleas, and the mice.

You get accused of making it all that stuff up,

even when they are hanging by your eyes.

Ok well maybe thats way to much but the other two lines are true.

But beware of the tyranny of the people in charge,

The mother, the daughter, who really care less,

The mother has been here for sixteen years, a program manager

Her success is just to be admired.

Her daughter working on the floor, on her phone,

talking to residents like they are nothing,

like they are lower than low.

But no one can say anything because of the fear of being kicked out.

Because she tells her mommy and guess what?

You are the one in the wrong.

But what can we, the poor do.

For they say they were once in our shoes.

Does that give them the right to treat us like poo.

Who to go to, what to do?

Who can I talk to when the system is against you?

The horror of Saint Vincent de Paul

Is not the place at all

It’s the people who run who treat you like shit.

And want you to say nothing

with your bugs your mice and your fleas.


Thanks to my stay at the San Diego Rescue Mission I was inspired by this lovely piece.

You walk around barking orders at women from the moment you walk into the door.

You stand there pointing your finger over and over again.

Kids run around screaming their heads off.

Moms sit and stare, some on their phones, some puffing on their cigarettes.

Me, sitting waiting for the day just to be over.

Wondering how and what I was doing there.

What is wrong with me, how could I do this to my kids.

Resignated and defeated I make the one call that I have dreaded all my life.

To their father. The one who has never been there.

And to my surprise he laughs and tells them that he can not help.

We walk downstairs to the room of death.

A morgue for the dead now converted for the living and in despair.

It’s gloomy and loud. for the children have not settled.

Five minute showers that’s all that is allowed.

While she walks out and yells to the kids to keep it down.

A feeling of depression overwhelms me then I hear her speak.

The devil in disguise. Welferas. People of the system.

She is spitting out words that roll of her tounge about how we have to get out of the system.

She then tries to smooth out her prejudice by saying,

“I once was there.”

But I ask myself where?

I have worked almost all my life since I was fourteen.

Making 8, 9 dollars an hour can not pay for 1200 dollars of rent.

The face that she makes is of disgust.

Then she bows down her head and says “let’s pray.”

The lower ones.

We are underground and not allowed to speak to the ones that live above us.

The lower ones.

The ones without a roof above our heads.

The lower ones.

At 7 am is the dismissal so you can return at 5.

Carrying your belongings all day long.

The lower ones.

You cant brush your hair because 4 more women are in the only bathroom.

I am thankful. Do not get me wrong. There is a roof on my head and food on my plate.

But this feels like the system.

I feel like if I was being punished and doing time for being poor and broke.

My health seems to get worst.

Then the devil return with a grim in her face and looks at me and says,

“You don’t look disabled.”

Wow I shake my head. I did not know or was I aware that one had to look disabled to be disabled.

The lower one.

In a dungeon of grim and the sad.

Where the food looks like slops.

The hot dogs are green and recycled chicken is every 3 days.

The lower ones.

But I am thankful. I have a roof on my head and food on my plate.

I want to cry and scream I do not want to be a lower one.

I want to work and have my own roof and cook my own food.

But I can’t afford it. Our health seems to be deteriorating.

But you know what.

Come to think about it.

I am not ashamed to be a lower one.

I am just one of many that has been lowered due to all this political greed.

I am one of many that have tried and somehow missed that step to greatness.

I am a lower, a lower who will rise from that dungeon of sadness,

And I will live to see many brighter days.

Like Yesterday

When I think of the time me and you where together,

I remember it like yesterday.

Even after time has passed,

I remember it like if it was yesterday.

I often wonder and ask myself why?

Why have these feelings that will never die, inside.

I wish you only knew what my heart really feels,

for when I see or hear you I feel like if I was fifteen.

But all of this was  yesterday.

I distance myself so I won’t feel the pain,

but I find myself traveling to yesterday.

As the years go by and the time comes and goes,

I keep loving you like if it was only yesterday.

I sometimes feel odd, 

for feeling like this.

Because out of the blue comes a memory,

that brings me true bliss.

But all that was in yesterday.

Yesterday was designed to hold things from the past,

But yet those things are not forgotten.

For the kiss on your lips feel like if it was just yesterday,

when it happened.

The feel of your touch your hands over mine,

bring chills down my spine and an urge for it to happen.

But yesterday has left,

it is dead, it is gone.

You might never understand,

what I will always feel inside,

And the fact that you hold my heart.

Like if I had just given it to you, yesterday.

And even though we are living in today………………

My mind will always travel,

and it will never forget yesterday. 



I don’t know how all this started,
but things are not the same
I do not know when things began to change.
Maybe it was your indifference,
Or the fact you didn’t care.
Or maybe because it took so long for you to notice I was there.
I want to make it work,
please don’t get me wrong.
But a part of me is just not there
Not wanting anymore,
Why? I just don’t know.
Maybe, because I longed for your love
For years and years and years
And now that you pour your heart out to me
Its like i’m not even here.
I guess I want a man who will sweep me of my feet,
A man who can depend on himself and not depend on me.
A man who can do things with his kids and be the authority figure.
A man who enjoys spending that time with them because they are still young.
The selfish me would love to be first but I know that will not happen.
For I have been with them for years,
And they still treat me like garbage.
I dedicated ten years to this relationship blindly
Going through the roughest times with a man who used to say that he didn’t love me.
A man who put his friends first before his love
A man who humiliated and lied.
A man who finds excuses for every single thing.
To stay at the bottom of the “I’m going no where pit”.
I just don’t know how to say it,
I guess that is why I’m staying away.
I don’t want to say it’s to late
I don’t want to say no more.
Because I know that I love you
But I don’t feel it anymore.