Orignal Poems

By Veronica Sanchez


My moon

My heart beats to the rhythm of distraction, my dream is that one day it will beat to the rhythm of my soul

I am shooting for the stars and I can see the moon

My moon shines bright

I will reach the moon for I am not that far, day by day I travel closer

Using my emotions as  navigation happiness will take me there

My vehicle is my purpose, my gift, my talent and my self worth is my motivation

My moon isn't a resting place or the end of an era,my journey will continue for my moon will take me to the end of life

I can change it, move it, destroy and rebuild it for my moon is a reflection of my souls desire, it is not who I am but how I am

My moon is peace


My authority can not be challenged for the fire in my heart will rule all
flame against flame 
fire upon fire brings a greater authority of fear, violence,
victim against victim


Its sunny today

days scheduled, mind clear, body swell,

Yet my mind isn’t living here,it lives on a cloudy day of yesteryear

On those grim days my mind was yet again on yet another day, ironically another sunnier day

I’m never on topic

before the speaking ends, I’ve leaped into distant questions

Having answers for all but I don’t remember what you asked

Either Steps ahead or steps behind

Never standing on my own footprint

I try being here, then everything fades

I can’t focus like that

I can’t be productive here

Sometimes I don’t know what day I’m responding to

What conversation am I dwelling on

what eyeroll broke my back

I just know I have broken and lagging

Sometimes I don’t feel the pain and think it doesn’t hurt

Only for tomorrow to come with all the pain I ever needed to feel

Just have me

I love you for abc not because you love me

Now don’t love me because of these 3

1 you loved me for abc but today I’m xyz

Now if you don’t love me and you stay you stay

But if you love me for abc and I’m xyz then you’ll leave me

Well you say how then do you know I’m not def I say I don’t

but if you don’t love me you won’t care and that’s number 2 because your pain hurt me too

3 love is empty you just fill it with your heart

I choose love when my heart is to intense the smile the wow the really is worth it

But you got a love too a checklist, what if I don’t accept it

What if number one is I make you feel good what if I think that’s selfish?

What if none of you’re checks is special and I don’t want to be special but love is supposed to be special but if everyone is special then no one is special and it’s back to being empty and I don’t want to be told something empty

So if can help it don’t love me just have me

Las Caras De La Luna

Mis palabras son como el cielo
El cielo es donde vuelan, donde viven los mas delicado
Donde la oscuridad es destruida por la belleza de las estrellas y las caras de la Luna
La luna como mi alma, no se deja gobernar
Siempre enseñando su cara
Su cara que cambia noche a noche, mes tras mes
Cambiando noche a noche, mes tras mes
La mujer de hoy no sera la mujer de mañana
Estoy me excita, mi vida es para siempre una aventura
Pero tambien me alarma
Sera que mi bien sera mal
Mi defectos sera mis valores
Pero lo más que cambio cuanto más me conecto a mis raíces


I am crushed
Reading minds is easy until you need to know for sure

Silence is nerve wrecking
Ambiguity is too risky
Talking in the moment is beautiful
But the mysteries of interpretation eats at me

I am a person of depth but if I go too deep I might drown in my sorrows
Or soak in serenity
Sadly I hate pain more than  I love joy

My options are quickly limited
Still I go deeper
Deep in smiles, laughter, hope, care and curiosity
My fear is in delusion for I am not sure

I live in a constant state of I can't
I can't wait, I can't mess up
Two sides of a very conflicting coin
One side full of butterflies and dreams
The other fear and insecurity

The pros outweigh the cons by beauty and kindness
the cons are only as big as my ego

The pain feels less like pain and more like answers
The joy feels less like happiness and more like opportunities

I am terrified but my ego is small and my butterflies are leading the way

I dive


Words are powerful I take immense pride in my selection

How do you draft a conversation?

They say practice makes perfect

To practice means to give it my all and disappoint myself

I don’t know why I am so bad , on paper its so easy

Paper doesn’t  judge me

I want to be hated for who I am not what I am not

First impressions are everything

What kind of expression said " I want to make you and everybody else a better version of themselves”

Every day is a struggle to make my outside look like my inside

But my face doesn’t seem to care

In fact my face doesn't seem to care about anything

Conversation without motive is a mystery

My life is my life and my motive is living

Familiar face , I don’t care for making conversation but if you want tell me your life

You want to kill boundaries with me?

“Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe I should stop acting so mediocre and do better”

Oh shit,  i was monologuing, they left

Hear Me

Some people walk into a room with a smile

A smile with their identity written all over it

My identity is embedded in my art

I cling to it

Show it off like a character witness

However the true witnesses are my friends

My dearest oldest friends

So old i can't remember how when we first spoke

So dear they read my mind before i even speak

I forgot how to speak

But admittedly I was never good at it

But i try , sometimes

And every time the fear keeps me frozen in time

Fear will shrink me down to the size of a small, awkward, buck teeth, frizzy haired, chubby little girl ,surrounded by stares and laughter

Fear will make me doubt myself , my worth and my mind

Fear brings about the ultimate embarrassment, feeling embarrassed

I scream silently

My words seem to only appear on paper and pretty pictures on the walls

Every compliment feels like acceptance

Soon my words will hit their target

But i must first win this war against a ghost

When i win, old relationships of tomorrow will be today's new


When I was 11
I didn't know a lot about the world around me
But I knew how to embody nothing
A nobody with none to tell me I'm somebody
My parents are religious and taught me how to pray for riches but never for a reason
All I wanted was for something to give
With nothing to give I wanted to die
But with such a  death came hell and hell meant something worse than this and I couldn't live like that

One lucky day somebody gave me a gift
They showed me happiness
I took that happiness found its value and made  something meant to give
I was really good at giving it,with everything I gave a part of me was an accessory
Receiving a gift meant that a somebody thought I was a somebody too
I wasn't sure who was that somebody they saw
I needed to find out so I looked
What I found was that every somebody had a something that made them special
I took these things and I called them mine
That's who I became .....a lie

It took me a while to smell it but my bullshit started to stink and it smeared all over my value
I didn't find what I was looking for so I had to look again bit this time in a new direction
With this new perspective I met new somebodys and saw things that fit
I'm still looking around but it's okay
I know one day I'll see it
Maybe when I'm 111


I am told I am unfiltered

They say to sprinkle sweet lies in my words because speaking from my mind is disrespectful

Why are my  honest thought so blunt that it hurts

Why does my curious nature insult you?

I've been told the truth hurts

But I thought that was only about the hurtful truths
not the questions from the confused
Not the opinions of  well intentions

I thought communication was about making yourself clear so everyone can hear

But instead I whisper

I can give my opinion but only if I state it's an opinion

I can be honest but not before proclaiming I'm just being honest

When did we all become so scared of words we stopped using them to clarify and just assumed what was in between them


What is my feelings towards someone who I don't want to marry but I would
I don't want to be their friend but I would
I don't want them to speak but I listen
I don't want anything but to know they're alive and being  themselves
Is that love?

What does it mean when someone makes me feel safe
They are my guide to let me know I've gone too far
They are my translator to people who don't understand
They are the person I look up to but don't want to be
Do I love them

What do I call the person who makes my heart beat fast
The person that makes my stomach drop
The person that makes my eyes grow wide
The person I want to share my life with
Do I call them "my love"

Are they the same or are they different ?
Is it rude to compare one to the other or is flattering ?
I just told my mother the same thing I told my burrito
"I love you "


That fine line between too much, just enough and too little

The distinction between infatuated and obsessed

The difference between lustful and loving thoughts

All the things I thought I knew before i knew him

To resent

To hate

To need

All the things I thought I've felt before him 

I blamed him

I thought I was being unjustly being punished

And that he strategically placed hatred and fury in my heart

of course I was wrong 

I was delusional

I was ignorant and innocent at heart

He used me

He took advantage and betrayed me

But I did those things to myself too

I was naive

I let imagination and hope change my reality

But worst of all

I wanted revenge

I reminded myself everyday of how bad it hurts

I wanted blood

Second time around was better

He betrayed me again, of course

But this time

I chose to leave and took my sanity with me 

I showed forgiveness 

I won't forget but I will never dwell again

I refuse to be blind and broken

What if

You walk down the street and see an old homeless man
You feel bad so you give him a dollar then he smiles at you and you feel good
You feel selfless
Now what if, just what if you felt nothing
Would you have given him a dollar if you didn't pity him
Would you regret giving him money if it didn't satisfy you to see him smile?

What if your friends felt like talking to strangers ? Would you have any friends

What if seeing a woman in the middle of getting raped as you walk down the street made you feel indifferent ? Would you help

What if you didn't hate but you didn't love or care for anyone?  Would you try to save the world or watch it burn?

Now what if you where selfless

What if

You gave that old man the dollar not knowing or caring whether he was going to buy drugs or food

You don't have any friends but you talk to who ever if willing to listen and listen to who ever is willing to speak

What if you helped that girl and not because of guilt or pity or sympathy but because you could