Well, I’m underdressed 

she thought,

Surrounded by other women

with glistening, highlighted cheeks

and cleavage to their drawn on brows. 


She sat with a rum and coke in hand,

not her favorite,

but pineapple juice could have confirmed

her apparent innocence,

Her long lashes and freckles remaining

untouched by society. 


He kept staring at her

from across the bar

as if in sync with her thoughts-

He too,

acknowledging that 

there was no place for her here. 


Who is he to judge me?

she questionably glared, 

judging herself,

As he rose from his chair 

making his way towards her.


“Hey miss” 

he said, pausing for a breath. 

“I’m sorry,

but you 

are absolutely  



                               _angelica marie

A subway conversationĀ 

As the subway enters the station

I prepare my music just loud enough 

so I can meditate on the words that sing 

without hindering my ability 

to hear a voice 

should it need a friend. 


When I enter and look around the car

it saddens my spirit

that we all act as strangers

when we are all someone’s child

avoiding eye contact in every way

as if to avoid a chance to say “I see you” or 

“you exist.”


Today a baby gazed around 

as he grasped his naked foot

and rubbed his nose, fussing 

and crying over something 

until his eyes like Caribbean water 

met mine

and instantaneously 

we united in laughter. 


Minutes passed 

and others joined in

this baby boy filling a train 

with more conversation 

than words had ever dared



And when his dad 

walked him out at 59th St Columbus circle 

he turned back to see me one last time

his eyes sternly meeting my soul

as if to say

 “remember what I told you.”
                               _angelica marie


And I may still not know where my home is

but I sense belonging under the stars

reaching the mountain’s peak 

in the park befriending trees

or appreciating a flower on the sidewalk.


I find comfort in a blanket of sand

where the waves echo the peace I feel 

despite the      S


       h             O


that ripples out from the very tips of my toes and sends vibrations of uncertainty 

met with certainty,

that I am not alone 

                                     in this beautiful,



                               _angelica marie


He had glasses

That squared around his eyes

Like a frame 

Around an important picture 

Sharp dimples

Extending a crooked smile

Weakening will power

To resist a first date kiss.


He was respectful 

“I’m honestly trying so hard to respect you right now”

he said. 

He was honest

But afraid 

With a longing to be understood

But a fear of being judged 

In the attempt at understanding.

He held my hand

We spoke about philosophy 

We drank wine and ate gelato 

Aimlessly walking infinite steps

Around Manhattan 

Our destination, intangible 

Lost in conversation 

About who we are

And who we hope to be.

                               _angelica marie


I’ve always had a fascination

with the juxtaposition

of darkness and light-

how a butterfly casts a shadow

like a flickering candle

while it fearlessly takes to the sky in flight.

I once stood at the height of my balcony, overlooking stone

pondering what it must be like to fly

and my immediate afterthought

was to dive head first

as if the next best thing to do

was die.

Luckily I discovered what Pandora had left behind

despite all of which she had released

and with hope I uncovered

a truth I had known-

my suffering was a puzzle piece.

I had found a sense of purpose

one that overwhelmed me, yet kept me strong

but I still yearned to fulfill a deep desire

of which was [is] to belong.

I have never felt

this life was mine

as I carry my boxes wherever I roam

though I am a hopeful wanderer

on my journey of becoming 

in search of the place I call home.

There is so much suffering

in this strange place I find myself in

a world of souls engulfed in pain, and I feel it

in dedicating my life to service

I strive to find a way

to hold it in my arms

and heal it.

Still, though

I tend to surrender

when depression comes back

to visit me-

he blurs the world and dulls it of all color

but then enhances my ability to see.

And the flowers are magnets

to my eyes

as they color in my wounds and doubt

but is suffering necessary

to appreciate the beauty?

I just can’t seem to figure it out.

The sunset is my one consistency

as every day it reveals itself

to my soul

and as the colors fade to black

and the stars take their rightful place in night

my heart

begins to feel whole.

I’ve always had a fascination

with the juxtaposition

of darkness and light-

how a butterfly casts a shadow

like a flickering candle

while it fearlessly takes to the sky in flight.

I now stand at the height of my balcony, beneath the stars

imagining how free it is to fly

and I realize each thought,

experience, and soul I see

lifts my wings up closer

to the sky.


                               _angelica marie