This was my response to prompt #20: Favorite winter traditions
There’s excitement buzzing around the Christmas tree this year
New couples will come up with new corny traditions
Toddlers and dogs will try their luck at tearing down the tree
Parents will try to sneak presents and give credit to that jolly old man
So many memories of love and togetherness are waiting to be made
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2021.
La navidad se escucha con los parchis
cantando navidad, navidad
navidad se ve como el árbol lleno de muchos adornos
coleccionados hace más de 30 años
el nacimiento cusqueño con las estatuas
de la virgen, josé y el bebe jesús cristo
que tienen más de 33 años
navidad se saborea con un polla peruano sazonado
con especies únicas
con un chocolate y panettone siempre en la mesa
navidad se siente con la felicidad pasando tiempo
con tus seres más queridos
que te llenan con amor y calor familiar
la navidad se huele en el perfume imari de Mami
La navidad siempre será una de las tradiciones
más bonitas e amorosas en mi familia
This was my response to prompt #30: The time of day you prefer
Sunday mornings make me jump out of bed
ready to seize the fuck out of the day
First my overpriced coffee while I blast out
music in my ears and tune the world out
Write, write, write whatever crazy thing
has been lingering in my mind
then I drive to the only place
where I can get fresh bread
I stand in a line full of the local hipsters
for my gluttonous must have
rush back home where I write
and plot more blog content for next month
will there be another playlist?
more angry poetry about an ex
who screwed me over?
or am I changing the narrative
and finally being honest about my recovery
Sunday mornings are always an opportunity
for my creativity to come out in full force
without judgment, without apologies
I wrote this poem in 2019 when I found out my friend Brad had lied to me for a decade about something pretty important.
17 years of friendship ruined
Because of one lie
One lie turned into a decade
Of lying to ME–
His supposed close friend
ME
A girl he supposedly loved and cared for
ME
The one he claimed meant a lot to him
But he couldn’t come clean
With his truth
He couldn’t man up and be honest
Instead he lied and lied and lied
Until
The lie came out 10 years too late
I’m overreacting, he says
But friendship like I know friendship
Is not built on a foundation of
Lies, betrayal, and mistrust
Fuck off,
Glad you’re gone,
Good riddance,
Hope you remember the words of anger
I wrote to you
And you keep your promise
To never contact me again.
This was my response to prompt #24: Your Top Priority
I build the life of my dreams through discipline and hard work
while I appreciate everything I have at this moment
even the minor annoyances
and especially the moments of calm and silence
I’m no longer relegating myself to a side character
or a side chick or a passenger in my life
I’m writer, the master, the driver of the life I’m creating
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2021.
Soy la sangre de mis antepasados
Colonizadores e indígenas
y pues por estoy llena
de una ambigüedad
de moralidad
Y pues por eso tengo
la tez blanca con cabello negro y crespo
Soy la sangre de mis abuelos y abuelas
y pues por eso estoy
llena de frialdad
y tambien tengo
un calor único
Soy la sangre mis padres
Y por eso soy
débil y fuerte
Y callada con mal genio
This was my response to prompt #29: One thing to do
Stop making excuses and take control over your life
no one has power over you-
stop allowing the opinions of other influence you
It’s time to stop with the bullshit and the false stories
Stop living in fear, stop living for others
this is your fucking life
the time is now to start living it authentically
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=5186
Al carajo el cuento tóxico de amor que siempre repito
rehusó a que me falten el respecto
por otro hombre que me llena de mentiras amorosas
porque no que estar solo y me quiere en su cama
paro de ser una curita temporanea
para otro hombre confundido
que me expulsa de su vida cuando paró de ser fácil
Desde AHORA cualquier hombre que quiere estar conmigo
tendrá que demostrar ser digno de mi energía
This was my response to prompt #12: Something to celebrate
Tonight I celebrate with friends, with champagne and music
We celebrate how far I’ve come and make a toast
to a future full of potential and promise
we laugh about all my past drama, dance to Taylor Swift and Yung Gravy
and cry with joy about everything good in my life
tonight is a celebration of the life I’ve work hard to build
tonight is a celebration of who I fought hard to become
I wrote this in December 2021.
Believing in myself feels like an act of rebellion
after years of self loathing and self destruction
I finally feel enough and complete
Is this some kind of dream?
Do I really love myself?
Do I really accept myself?
Do I really care about myself?
I do and I do and I do
I’m ready to live out my truth
I’m complicated and complex
and not terrible or a hot mess
I’ve been forever misjudged
and thought I was too much
The reality of my authenticity
Brings out a new transparency
I was never too much or not enough
or even the hardest to love
I might be a complicated puzzle to solve
But I’m always, always, worthy of love
This was my response to prompt #17: The best gift you could receive
God grant me serenity and peace
I hate it when I’m like this
everything annoys the fuck out of me
If I have to see another post about healing or trauma
or my inner child, I’m throwing my phone out the door
it’s not anything or anyone specifically
its these horrible mood swings
They transform me into a salty bitch
who sets fire to everything and everyone
with her pen and paper
at least now I channel my anger into poetry and prose
and no longer self implode
when will serenity and peace come to me permanently
and not just come to visit me temporarily?
This was my response to prompt #27: A book you want to read
Will “The Body Keep Score” give me the answers I need
as to why my body still feels past trauma
and why I still have nightmares about people and places
who has caused me harm?
or how when a trauma anniversary comes up
like the day I lost my baby or the day I lost my mind
my body feels extra heavy and my fists are clenched all day
Will I finally understand my body can still feel the pain of trauma
months and even years later when something catastrophic happens to me?
My Body is An Altar by Angelica Flores
I made my body an altar
Each morning I look in the mirror
and I pray
Each part of me represents
divinity
A higher power loved me enough
to give me breath
That is why I am doing the best I
can to present my body
I close my eyes and thank my
organs for functioning
I am divine and I know
I will treat myself with high
respect
Angelica Flores is a poet and storyteller. Check out her blog at : https://angelicafloreswriter.com/
This was my response to prompt #7:Your Favorite Recipe
4 cups of milk, two sticks of cinnamon
2 chocolate bars from Cuzco,
a unhealthy and gluttonous amount of sugar
I“ll bring it all to a boil with all the love in my heart
to make Peruvian hot chocolate for my boys
I wrote this in December of 2021.
I was never the marrying kind
Don’t know why I forced myself into that line
Maybe because of society’s expectations
I made marriage my destination
But it wasn’t really who I ever was
Forever is not meant to be in my book of love
But still I tried for seven years
And by year 7, I ran into my biggest fear
I felt trapped in a cage of my own making
Happiness, contentment, and authenticity I was faking
But it was never truly me
Living this suburban reality
And one day I wanted to sleep forever
My mind collapsed from society’s pressure
to continue this facade of being the perfect wife
With my perfectly imperfect life
My authenticity I had to put aside
I’m a wife and mother of three
There’s no such thing as being free
But these were the lies I told myself
The critic in me I learned to quell
I learned I could be a mother but not a wife
My husband took our relationship’s demise in stride
There would no more anniversaries
We were done with self imposed forgeries
And a new chapter started with us
One full of laughter, friendship and familial love
Life on the BPD 