I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

Gotta flex for my next ex
let me post some thirst trap pic
of my cleavage
and add a profound quote
about my self discovery journey
but nothing too crazy
I donβt want to scare him away
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

Am I doomed to men trying me on
just so they can change their minds-
days, weeks, months, years later
is it some kind of karmic energy in me
I still havenβt found the remedy for?
Perhaps I really need to stop trying
to find hope in love
and stick to whatβs working for me
and thatβs being alone
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

Children should be seen, and not heard is one tradition Iβll never keep
It would mean invalidating my childrenβs feelings
It would mean for them to have years of therapy trying to find their sense of identity
It would mean to reduce them to shadows who only speak when spoken to
It would mean passing them the torch of a generational curse that makes them question their self-worth over and over again
So everyone can judge me or criticize my parenting all they want
I like my children to not just be seen but also heard
even if itβs sometimes loud and boisterous
even if it sometimes sounds disrespectful
Itβs important for their emotional growth, for their confidence
and to break and heal the generational curse where children are silenced
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

could we have done more?
could his story have had a different ending?
could we have all been more compassionate-
more open instead of entrenched and absorbed in our own worlds?
all of these questions are asked, days or week or even months
later, wondering-if we carry any blame or responsibility
when someone ends their life with their own two hands
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

talking about how mental health is health is useless in times like these
times when someone takes their own life
not enough actions or preventative measures were taken
itβs always too late to say βthis was preventableβ
when really weβre all too selfish, too lazy to extend a helping hand
to someone in pain, to someone who is an enemy to himself
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

complaints about the Barbie movie appear
only from the privileged white men on my timeline
and I shouldn’t be surprised
even if those men call themselves allies or feminist
it speaks volumes to me that they voice their opinion at all
about it and decide to post their sexist bullshit
and maybe this is coming from a middle-aged woman whoβs crazy
but itβs hard to see that in this instance
Why men canβt stay in the backseat and allow women to shine brightly
without the patriarchy trying to dim their light
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Did I Ask For Your Advice?
los consejos y crΓticas de los otros
me hacΓan sentir como una fracasada
como que no estaba haciendo lo suficiente
para mejorarme
y cuando era una chava esto me volvΓa loca
pero ya que soy una seΓ±ora
me rio, tomo lo que ΓΊtil y rechazo lo demΓ‘s
y sigo con mi vida
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
it doesnβt matter who you are
man, woman or non binary
white, black or brown
with or without a mental health diagnosis
working class or upper class
at one point or another weβll all be toxic to another person
or to ourselves
some of us admit it and cringe
some of us will ignore it or blame someone else
all of us have been or will be dumpster fires
itβs a rite of passage
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

the outline of her body in the middle of the road-
told the most tragic of stories
she wasnβt looking when she crossed the street
she was lost in her thoughts
and the driver speeding didnβt see her
and splat went her body
death came quickly to her
her last thought was mission accomplished
but the world thought
another victim of an unexpected and tragic circumstance
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: The Light
en un sueΓ±o lΓΊcido encuentro la esperanza
mi abuela me dice
βno te rindas, tu vida apenas estΓ‘ comenzandoβ
y de repente me despierto de la niebla
de la angustia existencial que he estado viviendo
I wrote the poem in August of 2023.

I reach out to my unhealed parts when they show up
theyβre the messy and crazy parts I hide
the parts that still long to be codependent on others
and are terrified of my new autonomy
the parts that try to bleed into my present
and prevent me from reaching my fullest potential
I reach out, embrace them and whisper
βOur story will be better than okay,
we just need to trust the processβ
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

this time when I plant my garden of love
it will be a solo project
filled with seeds of only me
Seeds of my grief, seeds of my joy
Seeds of my sadness, seeds on my anger
Seeds of inspiration and it will bloom
into flowers of self worth
trees of empowerment
and plants of self love
this time when I till my garden
I wonβt allow anyone to distract me
This time when I maintain my garden
Iβll water it with the essence of myself
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

Iβm comfortable in the land of i donβt know
and allow the universe and the source
tell me what I need
And i fall into faith and hope
that things will work out
no matter how many unexpected crooked left turns
I take
no matter how many times Iβm met
with obstacles and challenges
itβs all used to build my strength and resilience
Itβs all used to fill me up with wisdom
to take risks and live life fearlessly and unapologetically
to find my own happy ending
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

Iβm not just a lesson learned, Iβm a whole education
my mood swings will teach you patience and self-control
and things about bipolar and BPD you never wanted to learn
Making love to me will give you a degree in the best WAPP
youβll ever experience
And when you break my heart and leave
Youβll earn your PhD in what happens when you fuck over
A Peruvian woman whoβs crazy