Mother’s Day 2025
poetry: regret
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
waited for you at the bar as I downed a margarita
anxiety and anticipation sat in my belly
wondering if I could be your dream girl
wondering if this time you’d kiss me
Wondering if there would ever come a day
I’d regret meeting you
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Poem: Overthinking
I wrote this in August of 2020 when
Thoughts in my head
race up and down
Thoughts about
my mediocre reality
Thoughts about all
of the failures in my life–
I want it to stop
but my brain-
my crazy brain won’t stop
SO I keep thinking
Is it just a matter of time
before he tires of me and leaves?
Will I ever reach that sweet spot
of stability and contentment?
Or will I always live this miserable
experience of dreadful anxiety?
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poetry: every time
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
everytime you disappear, I lose an ounce
of the fondness and affection I hold for you
this last time,I didn’t even notice
I thought, good for him
he found someone else to stroke his ego
and validate him
but here you are again
everything I once felt for you
has dried out
and I have nothing left to say
as you try to nonchalantly come back into my life
I’m filled with indifference this time
holding onto my new sense of empowerment
careful to not again fall under your spell
once again
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The new pope is Peruvian American
Here’s a poem I wrote about being Peruvian American:
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Poetry: Intoxicated
I am intoxicated
by his desire for me
He seems to accept who I am–
Wrinkles and craziness and all
and he doesn’t try to change me
He makes me feel valued
and appreciated and
that I matter in his life
Being with him fills me
with happiness, peace
and a joy I’ve never known
and for the first time
my heart isn’t filled
With anxiousness
of whether I’m good enough.
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Conan Gray
What was the last live performance you saw?
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poetry: rush
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
brown eyes
scorpio energy
takes my hand
I’m in trouble
warm rush of emotions
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Poetry: Unsurvivable
Unsurvivable
I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable
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poetry: roadtrip to Tijuana
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
never understood why you took us with you
maybe it was to assuage your guilt
maybe it was say you really did nice things
for me and my brother
inviting us to an all day road trip to Tijuana
in your air conditioned Blazer
silent as mice and on our best behavior
to not disturb you, your husband and your son
it was all so strange
the only thing I can remember
was the messiest hamburgers
we needed a hundred napkins to eat
and the picture with the donkey
maybe you were kind and graceful
with us at times
but all of that has been lost with the trauma
you incurred on us I’ve blocked out
and 34 years later in my middle age
sitting in my hot car in between jobs
I still don’t understand why you took
us with you
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Poetry: Blocked
Blocked
Blocked from my phone
Blocked from my world
Blocked from being
The constant chaos
That torpedoes into my life
And fucks things up
If only I could
Block you from my mind
If only I could
Block you from my heart
If only I could
Block you from my dreams
Blocked from mentioning your name
My friends know better
If only I could
Block you from
My poetry and prose
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poetry: can’t let go
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me to look pretty
even as I’m suffering, even as I’m cast aside
for someone else
even as I’m crying and dying from grief
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me about
all of the lovely and terrible things
that come with falling in love
at 9, Mariah Carey gave me lessons
about life and love
I’ve carried into my middle age
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Poetry: Virus
Virus
Loving you feels like a virus
I’ll never recover from
I lie awake at night
and thoughts of you infect me
I keep saying I want to be cured
of your love disease
that travels from my body
and into my mind
I’ve tried to find the cure
in someone else
But for some reason
your virus is resistant
It won’t go away
no matter what I do
I try hard to stay away
but it’s no use
The virus that is your love
is incurable
Virus
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poetry: fuck spring
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
shadows of summer’s past came and haunted me
in dreams, in my most intrusive of thoughts
every summer tragedy comes to the surface
in spring
not allowing me to enjoy the may flowers
that are blooming
not allowing the visual poetry of spring
happening right in front of me
panic attacks, crying spells, dissociative episodes
bursts of anxiety and nightmares
that deprive me of sleep, leaving me in a haze
of despair followed by depression
and I end up in a fog of exhaustion I can’t
seem to get rid of
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Napowrimo day 30
Life on the BPD 