Warm Bodies

Warm Bodies ——Is all I need. Spent too long neglected and it affected my esteem. Stopped trying to be heard or seen instead doused myself in gasoline for the fire- chasing liars and charring things I love, burning all that I desire. Warm bodies like new hobbies. Lingering in lobbies; Couple nights of fun before

Chapter 34

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]

Dive In

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 to

2021 NYC Poetry Festival

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.

New Book Teaser

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

Apartment 2E

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 from

I’m good luv, enjoy

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 i

Assimilation

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 – I

the five stages of grieving you

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.

Easy Way

Mama said we got money. Don’t worry honey – but use one tissue instead of two – If you grew up in a house with tissue boxes or like us, it came off the toilet paper roll before you blew. Did you rinse your cans, cause roaches. Broaches issues you don’t understand. Careful, said Mama.