I had this nightmare on Christmas
and I woke up shaking and sweating
I saw little 6 year-old me,
with her long brown pigtails and her big round eyes
all swollen and tearful
hugging her favorite book of old fairy tales.

I walked straight to her and held her in my arms
and she was crying and sobbing
and I asked her what was wrong.

She looked at me, afraid
and asked where her mommy and daddy were.
And I couldn't bring myself to tell her
how awful it had all gotten
and how lonely she'd get to feel.

It's past midnight
and the demons are here
to eat up the small pieces
of happiness I picked up today.
-L.

"I would 
not die 
for you."

—Six word love poem.

LorettaRm.

but when you look at me

the cracks in the walls

of my tattered soul

begin to seal themselves

so hold me once more

if you can stomach it, dear.

-L.

i got out of your car and i saw my reflection on your window

and there was this tiny beauty mark on the back of my arm

and i'd never seen it before

and i told you about it

and you said you've kissed it a million times

and that's pretty

that you know me that well

and yet

you're still here

-L.

I don't want to step on the fallen leaves

even though I can see other people's steps and mud on them.

They are still beautiful;

perfect fallen leaves

many coloured spots on the pavement

washed down with the rain and the wind

and I just don't want to step on them

even though I can see other people's steps and mud on them.

-L.

Quieta.

Me quedé callada para poder escuchar la lluvia

golpeando mis cristales como deditos juguetones,

y cómo olía a preticor y al café que se estaba enfriando,

al incienso que ya se había quemado

y a ti.

-LorettaRm.

I love school and health and the feeling of raindrops on
my cheeks and kisses on my neck.

I feel full, I feel comfortable.

The good kind of sober.

I've been told this is what living feels like; I guess I'd missed it all along.

I never really expected better days to come.

They did.

I'm grateful.

—LorettaRM.

(drunken poetry)

tongue tips and lips and magic.

lip. tasting. feeling. liking. licking.

the brush. the feel. the swallow. the melting.

soft. sweet. chewy. gooey. salty. cold. lovely.

it. him. this. her. our.

bitter, bitter, bitter; perfect bitter.

the warm coffee,

the sweet juicy bite,

the savory melt,

please

the nervous chew,

his kiss.

the kiss, the kiss, the kiss.

anticipation.

taste suck sweet brush bite feel bite hard feel like keep drink swallow

live.

-LorettaRm.

How much?
I ask because I'm fairly certain I sold mine a while ago.

Admittedly, I drank some away;

admittedly, I gave each of those boys a piece;

truly, there’s a part in each of these poems,

and my father carries a bit

in his jacket pocket

but I shouldn't mention it.

I never seem to explain to anyone
how sometimes the matters of eternity keep me awake at night,
It's not the fear of hell or the hope of heaven
it's more of the question on everything that remains.

Eternity feels like your second bottle of beer
on a hot summer night
 just before it makes you feel bloated;

when it feels like a pit in your stomach.

So far and so long are short.

—L.

there was a pretty song on the radio

it made me happy how a single note hits the low tone and then comes back

like my moods and my socks

it is acceptable that a kid has imaginary friends when little

people stop liking the idea when the kid becomes a grownup

and disagrees with his imaginary friend and they fight

they call it schizophrenia and kill it because it's dangerous

i don't agree with gender rolls or

t.v. shows that reveal the truth behind magic tricks

zoos or old ladies that make you uncross your legs at church

or 50 cent coins that look like 10 cent ones

i wish i was sleepy enough

my knees are cold at night because i wear shorts

i can't wear pants to sleep because i get too hot

weather's weird on april

we won't stop until somebody calls the cops and even then

we'll start again and just pretend 

that nothing ever happened

L.

Hello, handsome single gentleman. This is I, miss Loretta Rivera's common sense. I address to you, just to give you a quick tip about getting it going with my owner.

She's a fucking idiot. Honestly.

She won't EVER have a single clue about your interest on her. It won't even cross her mind because she is a complete moron.

If you ever feel the slight intention to approach her in a romantic way, please, feel free to direct this exact words to her:

“Young lady, I want to let you know that I am ATTRACTED TO YOU AND THAT I LIKE YOU BECAUSE OF REASONS. THIS IS ME HITTING ON YOU. You are a nice human and I would be interested in being your human-partner-thingy.”

That will give this dumb fuck a clue.
YOU ARE WELCOME.
—LorettaRm's common sense.

Dear [insert name here],

I'm writing this complaint letter because we just had an exciting conversation via facebook chat where you decided to tell me that you actually knew I used to have a big crush on you. I laughed it off because, obviously, we're "friends" now (which you certainly made clear a couple of years ago when you rejected me in one of the most humiliating ways I've ever been rejected by a significant other). 

As you said in our conversation, you happen to like my "new self" more. You said that I had overcome the person that you didn't like years ago and now I've become somewhat "desirable". I tried to take this as a compliment; one coming from -what I considered at the moment- someone not-so-good communicating in the typed way. You said you "might even" want to date me now.

So here I am, sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor, trying to figure out what you meant by this. I immediately thought about the -almost- hundred books I've read since you decided not to have any kind of sentimental relationship with my "old self", the trips I've done, people I've met, experiences I had... I've quite grown; yes, you might be right! I'm a whole new person now!

And then, you type, after a minute or so: "Physically." Oh no, you just did not... You... Oh.

*Cracks knuckles* 

Let me break it down for you.

You decided to not only put aside every single thing I've achieved in a relatively short amount of time, you decided to objectify my person as something that can only be improved in a physical way. I am disgusted by the idea of a person this incredibly superficial. Not only you had not spoken directly to me in the last years but you apparently believe that I can just turn on my feelings towards you -or possibly anyone who addresses a kind word about my looks to myself- in any single moment you consider proper.

I don't think any member of my audience feels like reading our full conversation. Plus, I think I've already stated the fact that you are a filthy and dickheaded piece of shit person.

But now, I have the need to address my words to any fellow reader who has ever been into any situation of this kind -may it be an offended one or an offensor-.

Nowadays, physical change is very easy to achieve. Anyone with access to enough information, willpower or with a prosper economic intake can change their looks. I'm not only talking about weight, fellows: You can change clothes, hairstyles, skin color, facial features, expressions, erase age lines, improve body mass, tone muscles, BLAH, BLAH. May it be surgical or the oldschool sweating-your-ass-on-a-crowded-gym way

So, why judge people based on looks when you can judge them by so many other things that are actually important!?

John Green, in his famous novel, Paper Towns wrote:

“That's always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone because they're pretty. It's like picking your breakfast cereals based on color instead of taste.”

And here I am, inside that same situation now. 

I might have lost some weight, I might have gotten rid of ugly glasses and braces and uglyduckling-ed myself out of an annoying puberty but I'm still the same person I was years ago. I still like to sing in the shower and drink coffee like crazy and am called Loretta Rivera and wear mismatched socks. 

You might have not liked me before, but I'm pretty sure that being "pretty" won't make my presence any more or less welcome in the lifes of people who have known me. 

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THIS LORETTA, FOR FUCKS SAKE. 

You can stare at a beautiful person; touch, squeeze, kiss, have sexual encounters with a beautiful person. That does not mean that you will enjoy the company of this beautiful person. Yes, your boyfriend is "fuckable", great, screw the shit outta him, kid, I wish you enjoy it. But when he talks...

Is he like this or like this?

You might want to consider this before ever going into any sort of relationship with a person. This person will meet your parents. This person will answer the phone at your house. This person is the person your friends are going to beg you to please, not bring to their birthday party and you will have to explain why.

And if someone wants to be in a relationship with you just because they find you goodlooking but you can tell they don't know a single thing about who you really are, maybe you should let slip in any conversation that you don't know how to properly wipe your ass and you might need some lessons. This maybe a hint for not-so-bright ones.

You're more than a number on a scale, a bunch of makeup, clothes, trends. You're a person. Cultivate yourself as one. Nourish your body, your soul. Allow yourself to feel. Don't be a superficial dickhead and DFTBA.

-LorettaRm.

PS. Sorry for the cursing and any personal offense. Excepto tú. Tú sabes quién eres. Pendejo.