Hello hello! Welcome to my writing page!
Since I was little, I've always had a small love for writing.
Whenever I had time, I would write stories in my chomebook or in a piece of folded up paper in the tinest font I could write. It
wasn't until I was 10-12 years old when I lost interest in it due
to mental health issues. I picked it back up just recently and
have been writing bits and pieces ever since.
I tend to write nonfiction, x reader fan-fiction, and short stories of my original characters.
Some of the pieces are ones I made for a Creative Writing class back in 2025. Others I made back when I didn't know about how bad AI was and have been rewritten by scratch. These aren't all of them, only the one that I want to share with the world.
Every piece of writing will have content warnings when applicable. I may post more mature pieces in the future, so I wouldn't recommend anyone under 18 to read them.
I may also have small sections where I go into detail about any symbolism that occurs within the piece or the overall backstory/inspiration behind it.
Happy Reading!
i sometimes wish i was bullied when i was younger
so that i
could have a good excuse to hate them
instead, they were nice to me
i talked to them and they
responded
they never invited me anywhere
they never gave me their phone
numbers
they never let me into their inside jokes
but they were still my friends
even as they said some racist
things
even as they hung out with their other friends
and
made plans what didn't include me in front of me
after all, friends are just people who talk to you once a day
right?
Every time I read a poem,
I get awestruck
by how they
write it
Every word
is
special
Every stanza
is a window
to the author's soul
How do they do it?
How can I do that?
I have nothing special
to write about
I'm not even
a
good writer
I can give you
half-assed symbolism
I can give you
a simile
But I can't give you meaning
I can only give you words on a
page
In this universe,
I am your older sibling
the one who raised you and
taught you two the world
whenever I call
you two tell me you miss me
In another universe,
I am a planet
while you two are moons
that orbit around me
forever until the end of time
En otro universo,
en donde mama y papa
nunca se fueron a los Estados Unidos,
estamos caminando a casa
por los calles de Guanajuato
bolsa llena de pan dulce
piel quemados en el calor
My favorite part to eat
is the eye
It’s soft,
chewy
and perfect in a dish
Eye soup was the first
traditional family recipe I ate
when my father deemed me old enough
Although it hurt
to pull it out of my socket
and I
couldn’t really
see much for the rest of the night
I've always been proud
of the fact that
if I concentrate hard enough,
I can feel
someone touch me
I can feel
someone's breath
on my neck
A warm hug and
a soft kiss
on my cheek
I would lie awake at night,
arranging my blanket
to mimic the warmth
of someone who doesn't exist
I bury my head
into the blanket,
pretending that
the heartbeat that I hear
isn't mine
yellow and red stars
litter on the edge of my vision
as they speed past me
I'm so cold
and so tired
it should be fine for me
to reach out twoards them,
right?