Author Archives: misskris726

Am I who I want to be? Or what people want to see? Occupying only the space they allow me- I am free. Happy with my becoming. Once I was running but now I stand, taking root in fertile land, heart in hand. – Kristina Rose Garcia [2021]

It’s under my surface; Always. The irritation rains, collected. Irrigation to the guilt garden in my brain. A thing with no name and shameless fame occupying the spaces between myself and the sane. Built different. Small differences lead to false inferences and does anyone really know who I am; Do you dare dive deeper toContinue reading “Dive In”

What an honor to share the stage with the Murmurs and Shouts family representing Clipper Coffee Bronx. Great festival on Governors island celebrating the art of poetry.

Meet the characters of my upcoming book which will be a narrative 🙂

We could smell her death from across the hall. It seeped through the walls and her spine, it crawled. Down she fell. We let her fallIgnored her call call calldown the halls. Death stalled, appalled at the wreckage. Heart to hemorrhage and decay,She knew he only stayed cuz she paidBut it’s a step away fromContinue reading “Apartment 2E”

A poem written by Shelly Ann Wheeler 🕊 I’m good luv, enjoyAre the words that rang through my head as i realized all the real lies you told me I’m good luv, enjoyEchoed through my veins As i thought of all the pain that i sustained That i stayed throughI’m good luv, enjoy As iContinue reading “I’m good luv, enjoy”

I took eleventh grade English high. Soared beyond Bronx skies into my third eye. I see me. I live in powertry. Healing the things that were eating me. Like broken Spanish, culture vanished in white smoke. Kept it closed when my mouth stumbled and spoke. But on the page I let it go – IContinue reading “Assimilation”

Denial Frown where there used to be a smile, Can’t call it denial while my lungs still sigh your name to sleep; Every night into my pillow I weep, Crying and not understanding why this love we can’t keep. This is just stage one of the grief before my heart, mind and soul gets relief.Continue reading “the five stages of grieving you”

Grief; A new old strife that lives on the edge of a knife. Be polite. Don’t ask about the bruises. Each one, belts looped like nooses patted rosey with excuses. I’m foolish. Angry I can have everything except his wedding ring… Spinning, watered down maybes making me crazy. Skidding towards the wall – – –Continue reading “Grief;”