Poetry: Control Myself

I wrote this poem in 2019 when I got into a fight with a friend because he was cruel to one of my friends. After this fight, we didn’t talk for 2 years but we ended up reconnecting in the summer of this year.

random pic of me pissed in 2019

Control myself, he said

As I called out his misogyny

His fragile ego couldn’t handle

hard truths thrown at him

He thinks that he has a license to offend

Because of the organ between his legs

and the pale color of his skin-

He thinks that I’m wrong 

for not sitting still and silent

He thinks that I have no right 

to stand up for myself 

Control myself, he said 

and “fuck off” I reply to him

you won’t even be able 

to control a woman like me-

Poetry: Remembrance

I wrote this in April of 2003 about the first Andrew, the guy I fell in love when I was 16. I had gone to Hawaii in April and went to the beach we use to go to and I wrote this poem. Yes, I was still having nostalgia about a short relationship from 5 years ago. One of my BPD traits is being obsessed with some of my romantic partners after the relationship has ended after a long time.

Kailua Beach, Hawaii

So I take a walk on the beach
Where we used to come
And make promises of young love
But like the waves of this tumultuous ocean
Our lives took turbulent and separate turns
and our beloved promises
Got forgotten somewhere in between
And for some reason I keep thinking
A new tide will come in
and I’ll turn around one day
And you’ll take me in
With a welcoming embrace
And fate will remember us
Once again

Poetry: Hard

I wrote this in January of 2003. I’m honestly surprised that after so much disappointment in the dating world, I still had faith. I guess I was still a hopeless romantic at that point.

It’s so hard sometimes to be nice
When you’ve cried so many times
Over so many sorry ass guys
When you are always done wrong
You wonder what’s taking so long
To find a warm hearted guy
Who’ll give you the moon and the sky
To find that special man
that was written for you in the sand
Sometimes you almost want to give up
and just suck it up

And say “I’m so through”
With always being used
But you have to have faith
That one day you’ll find somebody great
And all of these lonely nights
Will finally have an end in sight

Poetry: Nothing More

I wrote this in December of 2002. Towards the end of the year, I was depressed abotu dating and romance. I hated feeling like I was always just used for fun, objectified, and then discarded like trash. .

exactly

Now that I know
That between us
Can me nothing more
Than a story of pure lust
I feel so dumb
And wonder once again
If it’s possible to go numb
From all of the jerks that are so damn lame
You fucking jerks that don’t want to see past
Me being a great piece of ass
And I ask myself these questions
What does it take for someone like me?
To find someone that will make me happy
To find someone who doesn’t use me just for fun
But maybe it’s okay
Maybe this is just my fate

Poetry: Company

I wrote this in 2002 about my former friend Brad. He was the type of “friend” that kept trying to sleep with him and I tried to have boundaries with him. I guess I should have seen the red flags then.

Growth begins by choosing yourself

My dear friend
Why do you want to stay with me tonight?
Is it because you’re lonely?
Or is it because you’re sad?
Or maybe you just crave the company of my warm body
Sorry but I can’t allow it
Because I’m selfish
And want to keep memories of you pure
and free of any sexual intimacy

Reflection: My Relationship with Poetry

it’s like that

Poetry is and always has been a big part of my life. Poetry is everywhere . Poetry is in the lyrics I sing, it’s in the love I make, it’s in the beauty of nature, and even in the grief I feel. Since as long as I can remember, I’ve used poetry to process my feelings.

At first, it was me finding comfort in song lyrics when sadness or anxiety hit me even as a young child. I remember being 5 and belting out the heartbreaking lyrics to Juan Gabriel’s song “Querida: or the romantic lyrics Daniela Romo’s “De Mi Enamorate”. When I came to the United States in the 80s, I learned English at school but also through song lyrics. I remember at 6 or 7 singing the lyrics to George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” or Rick Astley’s “Together Forever”.
Around 6th grade when I started getting crushes on boys that never gave me the time of day, I would alternate between being angry and singing salty songs like “Someday” by Mariah Carey or singing and crying to Boyz II Men’s “End of
The Road”. Yes, I’ve been super dramatic and emotional since I can remember. Haha.

Here is a short playlist of these songs:

Poetry Feels like

And then came the age of the internet when poetry became accessible to me with just a few clicks. I remember being ghosted by this ex when I was 15 and finding this poetry forum with poems full of teenage angst, anger and sadness. It was incredible to me that there were other people feeling how I felt. Yes, some of these poems could be called cringy and corny – but it got me through what I thought was the worst heartbreak I was experiencing at that time. Here are a few of those poems

I Want to Know by Cammi Thorn
Ride by Unknown Poet
Check Please by Unknown Poet


Around this time my mom noticed my new fondness for poetry and introduced me to the love poetry of the Spanish poet Gustavo Becquer and I swooned. This is my favorite poem of his:

Asomaba a sus ojos una lágrima, y a mi labio una frase de...
Rima XXX by Gustavo Adolfo Becquer

Eventually I started writing poetry to process my feelings and this is one of the first ones I wrote inspired by what else-a breakup. Haha.

Jaded me at 15

In some of my blog posts, I’ve said that I shouldn’t have written poems about so and so and should have gone to therapy; and while that may be true, poetry was also a type of therapy for me. Whether it was writing salty and angry poems or processing feelings of infatuation or existential dread; poetry has been one of the few constants in my life

In my 20s, I discovered Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman” and Sylvia’s Plath “To a Jilted Lover” and my love for poetry became even stronger.

Phenomenal Woman - Maya Angelou Photograph by Maria Angelica Maira
Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou
To A Jilted Lover by Sylvia Plath - To A Jilted Lover Poem
To A Jilted Lover by Sylvia Plath

At that time, I also found the courage to join the literary club in college and start reading my own poetry in front of my peers. I call it brave because poets that share their poems, whether it be through open mic night, social media, a blog, or a book are sharing an intimate part of themselves with the world. They’re sharing their vulnerability, their grief, and sometimes even their most private thoughts. It’s brave to do this in a world that shouts at you to “fuck feelings “or tries to tone down the many emotions we as humans feel as we go through this beautiful and complicated thing called life. Sharing your poetry can feeling like opening and inviting the world to your innermost and private thoughts.

For me, poetry is part of how I process life. Sharing my poetry through my blog or at open mic sometimes feels like the last step in healing from trauma. I told my therapist that sharing my poetry through my blog feels cathartic because afterwards it feels like I’m completely done with revisiting a traumatic event. I’ve also received comments from people that they’re related to my poetry because of something similar they’ve felt or have gone through and that’s the other reason I share my poetry. IF even one person can relate to any of my poems and it makes them not feel so alone then I’ve done my job as a poet.

My Pathetic Little Beast

Poem: The Objectification of Eliza

I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.

Often men want this girl…the ones that’s always down for a “good” time
BUT run away from this one….the other girl …the vulnerable one that has a realness hard to accept

Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy

Tell me I’m beautiful

Objectify me, fuck me, 

Forget about me

And then

Try to come back to me

And when I deny

your lust filled request,

Put me down, threaten me

Try to hurt me-

Your words mean nothing to me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last

Who tries to destroy me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last 

Who treats me like a doll

to fuck at your convenience

You’re not the first

But will be the last

That tells me I’m not good enough

Tell me you miss, tell me you want me

Tell me you’re sorry

Be persistent in your quest

In trying to get me in your bed

with empty promises

about how this time it will be different

Sorry to my past, my present, and

future lovers-

I am pass being the girl

that’s just used for fun-

I am pass being the lover

you never introduce to your mother

I’d rather live in a world 

of solitude and calm

than to once again fall

into the objectification trap 

Poesia: Falsa Esperanza

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.

Pero fue lindo

Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar

Poetry: Stupid Game

I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.

2002 was such a rough year for love

I hate playing this stupid game
Called dating
Trying to decide
Which move to make
So you can have him at checkmate
It’s no longer about falling in love
Or even real feelings
But it’s about winning
So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice
I don’t dare give in to this yearning
To want to call him
Because then they’ll almost be winning

Poesia: Algo Pasajero

Escribi este poema en Diciembre del 2002 porque estaba amarga y triste que los hombres siempre me tratan como un juguete.

Asi me siento a veces

Los hombres me miran
y yo sé que ven
Nada más que ese algo pasajero
Que nunca de amor se atrevería hablar
Pero ya me canse
De la manera que me ven
Porque yo soy más
que un cuerpo en sus camas
Porque yo tengo sentimientos
Y quisiera algo verdadero a mi lado
Porque ya no quiero ser
Nada más que una de sus muchas amantes
Porque algún día quisiera tener
Un verdadera hombre
Que me vea mas allá
Que una de sus muchas faldas
Y va a querer saber quien soy en realidad
Para empezar a amarme!

Poesia: Adios

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de todos los pinches canallas que me han roto el corazón.

un hombre muy sabio

Adiós es todo lo que se puede decir
Cuando tu ser mas querido te hace sufrir
Aguantarte el derrame de lágrimas
Es lo que tienes que hacer
Para que el vea
Que eres una mujer fuerte
Callarte los gritos dolorosos
Y no le mirés a sus ojos
Y sonreír por más doloroso que sea
Para salvar alguna parte de tu dignidad
Y para que el vea
Que no logró su meta
De hacer lo que quiera contigo
Que para él no más fuiste un juego
Y después cuando él se arrepiente
De ser un desgraciado ser
Tu le puedes decir por fin
Nunca más te deseo cerca de mi

Poetry: Gone

I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.

it’s like that sometimes

I woke up one day
To see that you had gone away
All you left was a note
You could no longer cope
With our love mess
You had tried your very best
To be the man I wanted you to be
The one who only cared for me
You had only pretended to be true
And now you say the time has come
You’re sorry it took so damn long
All that is left is goodbye
You tell me to not even ask why
You wish me the best in life
One day I’ll make a great wife
And with your signature you sign off
I hope that someday you’ll find true love

Poetry: Mistake

I wrote this in December of 2002 after I had a one night stand with this dude I met in a bar and he didn’t tell me he was married. I found out a few days later when a coworker told me. I felt shame, guilt, and like a dirty whore for what happened even thought I knew that this time I was an unwilling homewrecker. It was rough.

deserved an award for biggest douchebag

This was a mistake
I wish I could unmake
I didn’t mean to kiss you
And I didn’t mean for us to screw
But the alcohol got to my head
That somehow led me to your bed
And now you have to understand
Our destiny has been written in the sand
You will never be the man I dream of
Who will deserve the best of my love
So now it’s about time
for you to open your eyes
What happened between you and I
Was chemistry I could no longer deny
So stop trying to interrupt my life
And just go back to your wife