You’ll come to me in whispers

And you’ll visit me in dreams

I’ll awaken from your kisses

Softly lit by radiant beams

In the echos of my life

I will catch your sweetest voice

I will hear our love’s pure song

And my heart will then rejoice

I will strain my tired ear

For each whisper that you gift

As I listen most intently

In our memories I will drift

And one day your gentle whispers

Will be louder and quite clear

We’ll be standing face to face

And our love’s song all will hear

I saw you pull up to my parents’ house for a wonderful surprise visit.
You told us you weren’t sure how long you’d stick around for,
But, you did say you would be back soon.

You’ll be back.
You’ll be back soon.
You always come back.

Years passed and you rolled in like it was only yesterday.
Your smile is bright, your stories are wild and we are all laughing together.
You are so much older but not all that different.
We are still exactly 10 years apart.
We are still each other’s favorite cousin.
You are still someone I look up to.
But for now, you’ve got to go again.
You didn’t know when, but you knew you would be back soon.

You’ll be back.
You’ll be back soon.
You always come back.

It’s Thanksgiving at the apartment
My smile was bright, but there were no stories.
Nobody was laughing.
I was a ghost and everyone else was a graveyard.
I left and no one even looked up at me.

I wish I didn’t.

Six years passed
and this time
you
didn’t
come
back.

I wish I knew.

I missed your funeral.
I missed your burial.
I miss you.

I finally returned to the apartment
to sprawl your flowers out over the bay.
My heart dropped at the top of the hill.
I met a lonesome swan that was kooky like you.
He made sure to make me smile bright like you.
The sky was heavenly.
The flag was at half mast.
I wonder if they knew.
I heard your flowers plop into the water and sobbed over the railing.
I almost wished I didn’t let go so soon.

Three months passed and a lot has happened.

You left and the whole world went into lockdown.
You left and society crumbled.
You left and everyone is rioting.
You left and I almost envy you for it.

You left us pictures of your bright smile to look back on.
You left us wild stories to recount.
You left us with fond memories to laugh at.

I swear I saw you drive past my complex today
You were laughing and held your cigarette outside your car window.

It was only for a split second.

But I knew it was you.

I knew you would come back.

And I know you’ll be back soon.

You always come back.

To feel the wind from the trees
& instantly smile
Surrounded by the love of life
My world
Mi Amor
The Butterflies i get to see her face i the sunlight
In the moonlight
Underneath the stars
That shine as bright
As her Smile
My heart has never felt such joy
Such peace to be with someone as beautiful & perfect as she is
She is home
My Other Half
My Darling ,Love Of My Life
With her my problems go away
My past doesn’t hurt so bad
When i am sad i think of her
& i am at peace
I could not imagine my life without her
Her Smile
Her Glow
The love i get just by presence
Her Touch
Her Words
By the way she looks at me
She is my happy joyful place
She not only has my heart
But consumes my soul
In every good way i could possibly think of
To my Peace
I love you with my all, My everything
Thank you for making me feel safe
For you to be my peace
Thank you for being there for me

Remembering words, sensations, and feelings
Scattered post-it notes in my brain.
Zumba, a typical Saturday morning.
I can’t live without it.

Bursting eardrums,
Dance in the back.
My bunion wincing, begging to take it slow
embracing the memory foam from my ocean blue Skechers.
Today will be great.

Dancing away from worries, insecurities, and the lows.
Being mindful and following the beat as it goes.

No longer counting 5-6-7-8.
Singing 1-2-3-4
followed by Mr.305’s signature “Dale” (Dah-lay).

No audience, just dancing for our bodies and mind.
Chorally chanting yet panting, “Manos arriba”
thrusting our arms above our heads.
This is my community.

Feeling the sweat on my back
Smiling with every step
Giggling between each body roll.
Enduring and giving it our all.

Ignoring technique
Because the best dances are those done with passion
Martha Graham is on my sticky note.

Merengue, cumbias, hip-hop, bachata,
some Bollywood dance moves take part in the fun.
Adding “sabor” to every dance, my own flavor,
Make it make sense.

The music transports me to Michoacan,
The summers with my family.
Although fading,
I feel it through the lyrics,
The instruments coming to life.
The dances clinging to diverse cultures.
The beauty of it.
A spectacle to be felt,
A fuel to the soul.

Zumba,
not just a workout but a mindset
to “gozar de la vida,”
To enjoy life.
Feeling this as I dance to La Vida es un Carnaval,
Half turns and spinning
Moving hips like dancing waters,
This is my happy place.

Hey, Young Drew: I’m you from 2024. I know that the future might be challenging for someone with autism, but I’m here to tell younger you: The future is bright.

A number of your friends who are with you will still be with you and rooting you on. Even better, you’ll make new friends. One of your buddies from college will hook you up with your first job opportunity.

You’re going to kick butt at this job because you’ll be a brilliant writer. Although there will be a pandemic in your late 20s, you won’t let it get you down because you’ll write a book.

Amazing things will happen to you. Even though people will say that you won’t amount to anything, you’ll graduate college and have a successful career– not to mention a great life.

In short, you don’t need to worry about the future, because I’m here to say that it’ll be great.

All these thoughts spinning me lies
Wringing me out and leaving me dry
Blinded by the blackened skies
Shadows and haunts creeping by
What- ifs and worries cloud my eyes

Eating me through from the inside out
Chewing me raw giving me doubt
Like termites in a log, gluttonous they flout.
Stewing in stench as rotting trout
Smothered in silence I can’t scream or shout

Hurricanes and stabbing rains
Try to tell myself it’s all in feign
These knotting pits drive me insane
Churning my stomach writhing in pain
Wish I could flush them down the drain

Driving safely down the street
Intrusive thoughts that can’t be beat
I should be dead, no reason to be
No right to cry or even to breathe.
Hit the gas, then swerve into the tree.

Is it real or make believe?

Drowning, twisting, squirming, tight
Tingling, torture, stinging, fight

Biting, choking, scorching, spite
Dead-end turns, endless plight
Waste of time, waste of might

It’ll be ok, I’ll be alright.

I wish I had seen; I wish I believed
truthfully
You have no power over me!

The coo of a dove,
gently wakes me from my slumber,
I dreamt of laying near a babbling brook,
accompanied by a good book,
hoping the right direction is hidden somewhere in these pages.
The morning light,
lightly lifted my eye lids
asking me:
“Hey, are u ready to start the day?”
A day where the only demands needing to be met,
are that of being a good father .
That sounds like so much fun!
We can build a fort,
we can go to the park and run.
Then I remember the problems
I tried to pin inbetween
prelude and the exodus,
they started to seep out of the page.
My son’s laughter met my anxiety outside and said
“not today!”
What it did allow-
was a welcoming thought,
for me to be a kid again.
Watching him live his life with so much joy,
Made me realize that
I needed to heal my inner boy.

The current cacophony
currently singing through water,
opened the valves of my heart so my younger self and my son can play together.

“A Dream by the River.”

The Sunlight was very jealous of our smiles,
The Breeze stopped for a second
to enjoy our laughter,
The Grass welcomed the
weight of our weightlesness,
It felt our heartbeat with every step,
then we layed down and became blades of grass ourselves.
My son safely nestled next to me and we dozed off…

Little Elena…why are you so worried?
Little Elena worried so much about the future. About people pleasing for her parents and making them proud. She wanted a career her parents would be proud of and being a creative was not getting the love & support I needed.
This is a letter to 12-year-old Elena. The girl who was filled with creative and innovative ideas but also filled with fears and no outlet to share them. I grew up in the 90’s, we didn’t have internet. I read books, watched a lot of horror movies, listened to the west coast rap, and wanted to be a writer so badly. I was inspired by west coast rap, by books and by Tupac Shakur’s lyrics. I was inspired by the horror movies on TV and used to say to my Barbies, “I am going to write my own horror story, and everyone is going to love it.” The problem was, I wrote the stories, but no one loved them. Why? Because I was too afraid to show case my writing anywhere. Oh, then there was that time I had a dumb boyfriend that went through my stuff in my room and found my writing. I was so pissed that I snatched it and he thought I was cheating. He said he didn’t read much but it was enough for my privacy to be violated that I swore I wouldn’t share any writing again. I love to write, I was sad.
In school, I would avoid sharing any writing assignments. I skipped class when it had to do with creative writing. And I would not turn in any creative writing assignments, I would just take the F. I hated school anyways, not too sure how I passed. But one thing I wished someone told me at that age, FUCK school. You don’t even use a quarter of what you learn. It is all colonized learning and kids going to school is part of the colonizer’s plan. Yeah… I knew school was a waste of my time but how could I have said all that to my parents without getting my ass whooped. Well, I grew up and forgot all about being creative at anything and went into a field I swore I would never go into only to people please, healthcare. That is such a joke of a job… it wouldn’t be if healthcare organizations actually CARED about its people and the people the people in healthcare. I stayed a Medical Assistant because I refuse to become an RN to further get played by the system. They scam you into thinking that money is everything, so long as you sell your soul to the evil health care corporation that will drain your soul. Not approve your PTO when you want, enable lazy, mean workers to continue to work. I wish someone would have told me more about the world we live in. Not how to continue to get played in it. Why is there never a department in healthcare that is fully staffed? I never got that. They have all this money to charge patients but cannot afford to hire more people is crazy.
Now, I wish someone would have properly informed me of this and said:
“Elena, if you choose to go down the healthcare path that’s ok. But know that it will be hard. You will encounter jealousy, hate, RACISM, burn out, no one giving a fuck about you, lazy coworkers, bullies. You will need tough skin and always stand your ground. You will NEVER need a job; they need you more than anything so shows them you ain’t a bitch. Don’t go above and beyond. Call in sick when you need to, don’t let them BRAINWASH you into thinking you have to get coverage for your own shift. THAT IS COLONIZED THINKING AND BULLING YOU INTO NOT BEING ABLE TO TAKE A BREAK FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH. Match their energy, they treat you at 43%, give them that or less. Do not do overtime, that’s a joke. Taxes. Get yourself a good primary care doctor and have them put you on FMLA days for mental health. Take vacations. Quit if they are not respecting your needs. A 2 WEEK NOTICE WHOULD BE DESERVED, IF THEY DON’T DESERVE ONE DON’T GIVE THEM TWO WEEKS. “
Man, I wish I was well informed. I also wish someone would have shown me how to deal with anxiety and the stresses of life. How to be an adult and juggle a career, family, and mental health. I would have thought school was more important if they would have been teaching us about life. Not brain washing us into thinking college is the answer. Only to drain all the money from us and our parents.
Basically, I wish someone would have let me know how I can live in this colonized world we live in. But also, to keep writing. Keep being creative. Show up and do not be afraid to show your authenticity. People will always judge, give them something to judge. Be you.
-Elena