Poetry: Last Day of 40

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me on the last day of 40

Last day of 40 and it feels like the longest year of my life
My 4th decade started with the miracle of what I thought was true love
But nope-it was another story of disillusionment and loss
growth and progress became the theme in my 40th year
I beat a 15 year driving phobia and made art from heartbreak and trauma
and I’m no longer scared to live my truth out loud
with my family, friends, and my online community
I also learned I was enough and complete by myself
and never needed someone to validate my existence
And as year 40 closes,I’m amazed by my creativity and resilience
and how time and time again I turn my trauma and grief
into the ultimate comeback story
For year 41,I hope to continue to thrive with calm and tranquility
and enjoy the magic I found within

Poetry: Energy Drinks

me at my second job ….

What is your favorite drink?

You are a necessary evil for a long day
You bring give me hope and a Goddess Complex
but the crash from you is so brutal
at times, I want to quit you for my health
but after 3 years, you’re a constant in my life
that I will need as long as I have 12 hour days
to make ends meet

Poetry: A Knock on My Door

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

this kid makes my dark days worth living

When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living

Poetry: Existing

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Existing was this never ending sorrow
Existing was a “what the point of it all” status
Existing was a horrible and exhausting nightmare
I couldn’t want to wake up from
But now..
Existing is welcoming the excitement of the morning sun
Existing is looking forward to my next chapter
Existing is a hopeful and lovely dream
I’m currently living in

Poetry: Scenes of Dissociation

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

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I fantasize about death after my boyfriend’s rejection
I’m so out of touch with reality, a car stops inches away from me
the driver honks at me and cusses me out
I am 15

I want to throw myself of the bridge on the way
to confirm I’m my parent’s worst failure
but a kick inside me saves me
I am 17

I want my baby to stop crying, my head is starting to spin
with psychosis and I hold him a little too tight
until my husband takes him from away me
I am 30

I’m crying while spewing nonsense
while my lover looks at me in horror and disgust
I know it’s over
I am 40

Poetry: Someday is Today

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

someday everything won’t feel so heavy
someday I won’t swim in anxiety
someday I’ll find self love
Someday I’ll be enough
Someday, someday, someday
Maybe someday is today
today I see the light
today I’m grateful for my life
today I feel like enough
Today I have self love
Maybe just maybe
Today I’m truly happy

Poetry: Just a Phase

Do you need a break? From what?

I need to take a breaking from thinking about you
you’ve been on my mind lately and it’s annoying
and it feels so damn foolish
but what can I do when my heart won’t understand logic
I hope this is just a phase
I’m enjoying our newfound friendship
anything more would ruin it

Poetry: Sleep Evades Me

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I wish for sleep to take me away to a dreamless land
but I’ll take unpleasant dreams about ghosts from my past
just so my body can get a full night’s rest
But sleep evades me,it runs away from me
like a lover who lures me with a taste of love
only to abandon me on a whim
and I try and try and try to shut down my mind
but tonight an emotional triggers hit me and trauma visits me
My body and mind remembers the adrenaline rush
of emotional and physical wounds and it scares sleep off
I wonder what to do next and get angry at my traitorous body
but I remember-trauma is complex and while most of it has been processed
There are still remnants that come out to be seen, to be addressed
And I end up here with the nightmare of insomnia that won’t let me rest
And while it’s scary I remember it’s also temporary
eventually my body has to give in and I’ll fall asleep

Poetry: Borrowed Time

How does death change your perspective?

word press prompt of the day

lately I feel like I’m on borrowed time-

lately I feel like I’m not doing enough 

and  lately this fucks me up

so I over work, over exercise,

and over post

to make myself worthy of my existence

I want to make sure I’m leaving 

some kind of imprint, some kind of legacy 

behind that I’m remembered by

but it’s really me trying to please 

the inner critic in me

who comes out when I’m most vulnerable

in my grief

Poetry: Duality

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m constantly shunned from men who profess their love
when I show up feral and without a filter
They’ll call me their princess until I show them my wild
They always love me beautiful and submissive
and they leave when I get assertive and subversive
They feel deceived when they fall for a polite princess
And somehow end up with an amazon Queen
Maybe it’s the Incan in me who can’t reign it in
They say, “you’re too much, you’re too crazy”
Is there a man out there who can handle my duality?

Poetry: My Happiest Moments

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m 18 and walking across the football stadium to receive my diploma
the one I almost didn’t get, my parents and I breathe a sigh of relief

I’m 24 and I hold my baby boy in my arms, it’s love at first sight
he’s the best birthday present and I’m humbled

I’m 28 and I’m graduating from college,it’s been a an arduous journey to get here
but I make it and my dad cries and tells me how proud he is of me

I’m 30 and holding my third baby boy, he’s my rainbow after the worst storm
everyone in my family holds him and there is an overflow of love

I’m 36 and my oldest son is walking across the gymnasion to receive his diploma
I cry with elation and pride, my heart is filled with pride and joy for him