Poetry: Another Pathetic Guy

I wrote this funny poem after a really bad date in 2001. I was obviously very salty at the time.

I write the same pathetic poem

  about another pathetic guy

From the first conversation 

  you didn’t seem to have an ounce of promise

  With your arrogant way of talking

but I decided to give you a chance anyways

But little would I know

  how you would try to make me feel

 Like some ignorant ho

Little would I know

I would enjoy your landlord’s company

  more than your own

Never had I seen 

  how arrogant somebody could be

Never had I felt 

  such repulse towards a male

Never will I see

  a future between you and me

Poetry: My Happy Place

I wrote this poem in 2006 when I was in the midst of my quarter life crisis.

There was once a place

It was my happy place

But it forever disappeared 

When puberty appeared 

Now I live somewhere else

Where almost everything fails

Where there are no more giggles

And everyone is fickle

Where being sad

Is the fad 

And no one cares

About anyone else

What I would give 

To get away from this 

And go back to 

Where no one is rude

And everyone smiles

And no one is a liar 

Poesia: Te Amo

Escribí este poema después de que tuve una disolución desastrosa en el 2001. Soy bien dramática cuando una relación amorosa acaba.

Te Amo

Pero te odio

Te extraño

Pero me olvido

Te deseo

Pero tu amor es feo

Te quisiera tener aquí

Pero tu me haces sufrir

Te quisiera besar

Pero me mandas al fondo del mar

Te quiero conmigo

Pero tu eres frío 

Te guardo en mi corazón

Pero contigo pierdo la razón

Poetry: Nostalgia

I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was feeling nostalgic about my ex boyfriend A after I had a dream about him. That love story is actually super complicated but that’s another blog post.

Me at age 16

The light falls on his eyes for a few minutes

And I see the flecks of green in them

But what I really see is a different life

I see the life that could’ve been mine

I see the kids we never had

I see the us that was and couldn’t be

But mostly what I see

Is a world full of remorse

Because of adolescent lies and pride

That made us say 

Sorrowful goodbyes

Goodbye Hazel Eyes

And the almost happy future

Held in them 

Poetry: The Jungle Part 2

I wrote this about the PULSE club shooting in 2016.

Everyone claims prayers thoughts

For those they sprouted 

Hatred against (just a few days ago)

Only because of their untimely 

Deaths.

If they had gone 

On living -they would 

Have continued to be 

Hated by most–

Now they are loved 

And remembered and

Prayed for in the their death 

Because they are dead.

It’s too late for you

Prayers warriors, you

Religious zealots and

bigots , your prayers 

And love falls on 

Angry ears, ears of 

The victims families , ears 

Of their loved ones, ears

Of the LATINX,Puerto Rican, 

LGBTQ Community

People who weren’t  

Given two fucks about 

Or treated with hatred 

Because your Bible told 

You so. 

Story: The Ocean

List of pros I made when Mr.Toxic ghosted me in late 2019

I wrote this in the summer of 2019 when Mr.Toxic had once again ghosted me. I think so much of me was obsessed with him because of the chaos he brought into my life. Also, even though I hate to admit it, he brought so much inspiration to my life that I ended up writing over 50 pages of poetry/ mini stories about him. He was my muse for a while and I think I became addicted to him.

There once was a girl and she fell in love with the ocean. The ocean engulfed her with its salt smell, and the warmth of the water on late nights. The girl swam and swam, deeper and deeper into the ocean-loving it more each day. One day the ocean got tired of the girl and decided to make the biggest wave to throw her back to the land. When the girl woke on land, she was disoriented, confused, lost and hurt. She wondered if her late night swims had been a beautiful and hopeless dream. So a few weeks went by and the girl returned to her normal reality of her every day . She went through her normal routine even though her heart hurt-she slowly recovered from the crash of the ocean and just as she was almost to her normal self. The ocean decided to call her back again. At first, she couldn’t believe it-she thought her ears were deceiving her-but it was clear that the ocean wanted her to swim in it again-for whatever reason. The girl felt special and lucky and even though she was hesitant -she swam again in the ocean. This time -it was deeper and more intense. She felt at one with the ocean. She felt honored to learn all of its secrets and was completely enthralled by it. She was finally beginning to feel safe and so vulnerable she started to float and let the ocean carry her. All of a sudden the ocean got tired and threw her again-this time the crash was way more devastating . It felt like she couldn’t breathe at times. She knew that she should deal better since this had happened once before but this time she cried more than ever. She felt worthless and used in every sense of the word. She wondered what sin she had committed that the universe had handed her such unimaginable and tremendous pain. It was hard this time to get back to normalcy. It was hard for her to go about her day and not burst into tears because her poor heart would spasm when something brought back the memory of the ocean. And then the process repeated itself a few more times. It was more exhausting and devastating each time. It’s like she couldn’t learn and see how damaging the ocean was to her soul. Finally there was a time where it was so brutal the girl finally learned to tune out the ocean’s song and she never swam again. 

Poetry: The Full Moon

I wrote this poem in 2006 in college. I’ve always been kind of introspective when it comes to the possibilities of life.

The beautiful full moon

The full moon strikes full of unseen possibilities

Possibilities that dwindle as life goes 

Through the process of aging or does it?

Perhaps we are the ones who put limits 

To our potential to be anything or do anything

Perhaps it really is true that we are the writers of our own destiny

Poesia: Inocencia Perdida

Escribí este poema en 2006 cuando pensaba en mi juventud y como mi sensualidad siempre fue algo polémico y tabú.

Mi inocencia se perdió

 Cuando sentí esa rara sensación

No era las mariposas

  De las que todos hablaban

Si no–

El calor especial 

Entre mis piernas

Ese calor que yo 

Sentía al ver mi segundo novio

con apenas 16 anos

Mi sensualidad

Se me escapaba 

 de mis manos virtudes

Que diablos importa la inocencia, 

  Cuando el calor de los dos nos llevaba

   a un placer ilimitado!

Playlist: For the Brokenhearted: Sad Edition (the one where you cry)

This playlist that I will share is titled: “For the Brokenhearted: Sad Edition (the one where you cry). I don’t handle breakups very well. Actually, I handle them poorly and go kind of nuts. Music helps me cope with the multitude of emotions I have. This playlist is the kind of playlist you play out loud in your car or at home with your headphones as you write mediocre and sad poetry. This playlist is based on the disastrous and heart wrenching breakups I’ve had throughout my life. These are songs I go to when I’m feeling numb or the waves of sadness come. I’ve put in bold the ones that I like to put on repeat.

1.Wrong Direction-Hailee Steinfeld

2.Someone You Loved-Lewis Capaldi

3.Rest Stop-Matchbox 20

4.Dangerously- Charlie Puth

5.Don’t Speak-No Doubt

6.Goodbye to You-Michelle Branch

7.Stone Cold- Demi Lovato

8.Lose You to Love Me-Selena Gomez

9.Too Much to Ask- Niall Horan

10.River of Tears- Alessia Cara

11.The Night We Met- Lord Huron

12.What a Time-Niall Horan with Julia Michaels

13.White Flag- Dido

14.Consequences- Camila Cabello

15.I Have Nothing-Whitney Houston

16.I’m Going Down-Mary J.Blige

17.It Must Have Been Love- Roxette

18.Another Sad Love Song- Toni Braxton

19.Hello- Adele

20.Breakdown- Mariah Carey

Below are links for your listening pleasure:

Poetry: License

I wrote this poem in 2002 about my oldest son’s bio dad. I had a lot of angry emotions about how he abandoned him.

me with my oldest son circa 1999

A license to create is what shouldn’t

Be given to those who don’t know how to 

Appreciate their child’s laughter 

Or comfort their high pitch cries

A license to create is what shouldn’t 

Be given to those who don’t understand 

What it takes to be an example to 

Those that descend from them 

A license to create is what shouldn’t 

Be given to those who leave children 

In the dust to follow their own desires 

Without looking back on their offspring’s 

 sad little face that whimpers,

“Daddy, come back”

Childhood Memory: 1986

Me around the age of 5, shortly before immigrating to the States

I was standing on one side of a closed door and I heard a conversation that I will never forget. I remember being five years old and running such a high fever that my vision started to get blurry and I had a massive headache. I remember the loud whispering between my parents. My father wanted to take me to the hospital, my mother argued they couldn’t because it was too much money. It was something that my newly arrived immigrant family could not afford. I remember that was the first time I felt something extremely heavy within me. I didn’t know then what it was but it would be the first time of many times I would feel that guilt of being a burden to my parents. Eventually it would turn into a certain type of guilt that made me swallow words and feelings so I wouldn’t inconvenience anyone. I have carried this guilt within me throughout since I can remember.This is a quiet BPD trait. This trait would lead me to becoming a people pleaser later on in life. As I have gotten older, I’ve gotten more aware of this and have become more assertive in making my needs known and met. I’m still not where I want to be but at least I’m way better than I use to be.

Below are a couple of links about Quiet BPD:

https://themighty.com/2018/12/quiet-borderline-personality-disorder-bpd-signs-child/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-emotional-intensity/202107/what-is-quiet-bpd

Poesia: Una Vez Mas

Escribí este poema in 2019 después de que “el Toxico” que dejo una vez más. Estaba determinada a no volver a su lado, pero no fue así.

yo en 2019 determinada a no volver con el Toxico

Una vez mas 

Me dejaste en la peor oscuridad 

Sola y abandonada

Me encuentro con un rio de lagrimas

Que no quieren parar

  Y el dolor en mi corazón 

No me dejan dormir

Mi recuerdo de ti

Me fastidia mi ser

Una vez mas 

Me dejas con una infinidad 

De preguntas

¿Porque te fuiste?

¿Porque no me amas?

¿Porque me usaste?

Pero esta vez

Es la última vez

No puedo seguir 

En el infierno que 

Es la confusión 

De tu supuesto amor

Pero esta vez

Me valoro lo suficiente

Para parar la locura

De regresar a ti

Pero esta vez

Me acostumbre  

A vivir sin tus besos

Pero esta vez

Dejaste de existir para mi 

Poem: Lost Tears

Me in 2006 when I wrote this poem

I wrote this poem in 2006 about my tumultuous relationship with writing. I love to write and it’s saved me more times than I can count. However, I tend to beat myself up if I’m not writing enough.

Instead of lost tears from eyes that long to spill,

I will spill words on these pages.

Words that make sense, 

Words that don’t make sense, 

That are in fact nonsense

I will let my emotions, the wind 

And my surroundings guide me until 

I fill up these pages full 

Of nonsense, prose,

Poetry, ideas, and everything I can think of

A new phase, 

this new phase will be not only full 

Of promise and potential 

But it will be full

Of what I hope is the inspiration 

That leads me to share my relationship 

To the world. 

This will be my third baby 

That I will nurse and raise until it is 

As beautiful and complete as my 

real life ones. 

This is the promise I make to 

my pathetic little beast.

Poetry: The Wind

I wrote this poem in 2006.

That wind can be rough

The wind makes the plants and branches dance, 

Like our lives dance everyday, sometimes slow, 

Sometimes fast, sometimes soft, sometimes rough

Will we ever find a steady rhythm,

A steady beat –or

Do We dance to different tunes until the branch breaks?

What is the name of the soundtrack of our lives?

Poetry: Unhappiness

I wrote this poem in fall of 2005 when I was feeling overwhelmed by my responsibilities of being a mother, a girlfriend, a student and a worker. As usual at that time, I took on too much and was trying to be everything to everyone. One trait of BPD that I’ve carried throughout the years is over extending myself sometimes to my detriment in order to make other people happy.

Me with my middle child circa late 2005

Feelings I can’t turn off

Quickly come in droves

Don’t know what to do 

My options are few

Do I follow my gut?

And get away from this rut

Or do i stay here ?

And become what I fear;

A woman that settles

And lets others meddle 

A woman with no mind

And with everything, she is fine

But can I turn off the real me?

And stay so unhappy