I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
in my literary war chest lies a lifetime of love failures,
insecurities about motherhood and confusion about my identity
in my literary war chest lies unfiltered thoughts about grief
for everything I never was and potential unfulfilled
in my literary war chest lies the answers to how I survived
Catastrophe after catastrophe-
In my literary war chest lies proof of my strength and resilience
in the worst of times
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
she thinks she should be thanked for flexing her confidence
clothed in privilege and luxury by posting advice to women
about how dining alone in a fancy restaurant is women’s empowerment
and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit
it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment
perhaps it’s because I’m a working class immigrant woman
who struggles in America
perhaps it’s because the rights of the marginalized and working class
are being ripped away from us
and on my social media feed, this yuppie and elitist bullshit appears
how can I be friends with this bleached blonde Barbie
oh yeah, we worked together briefly
and I almost start to comment with an essay on how she should
check her privilege before handing out tokens of toxic positivity
while people like me are drowning in debt and lack financial stability
but I stop
this barbie isn’t worth my time or energy
it’s time to unfriend and unfollow the marie antoinette wannabe
who only serves to trigger my working class rage
who serves to remind of the injustice and inequality
in this capitalistic and racist American society
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
my hearts expands wishing nothing but the best for my exes
I hope that one guy got to recovery and he’s settled with a nice girl
he met at church and they live somewhere in the country
I pray that one dude found someone nice and calm like him
to share a life with
I wish the latest one found someone who’s not crazy
he’s in love someone who brings stability and routine to his life
but most of all, I wish all of them to live their lives authentically and with purpose
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
As I let go of my limiting beliefs,
I grieve the woman I used to be
so insecure and unsure of herself
so hesitant to take control and power
Overthinking and catastrophizing constantly
it held me back from living the life of my dreams-
Jealousy and envy filled me up
Scrolling the professional and personal successes
of others on social media
Thinking, “that could have been me”
and giving too much important to the opinions of others
wondering constantly-
“are they judging me?”
It was an toxic story I told myself since the age of 16
and it continued on and on until one day in my middle age
I exploded and decided to fight my inner critic
and challenge everything I thought was wrong with me
slowly I learned to turn my story around
Slowly I went from victim to heroine
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questions your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
Relief comes after a nap on Christmas day
I woke up with so much joy and warmth in my heart
I feel like I’m standing on top of a mountain I’ve been climbing forever
A mountain climb that’s had a most treacherous uphill
and loaded with many obstacles I’ve stumbled and fallen from many times
but the universe, God presented me this gift of contentment for my life
the understanding that everything had to happen for this reason
to live in my childhood dreams of having my own family
who brings me love and purpose every day of my existence
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
pride and ego keeps us from speaking our truths
we don’t want to be perceived as crazy or as a basket case
and we suppress, suppress, suppress-
only speaking with cordiality and respectability
when we should really cut through the bullshit
and let every unfiltered thought make it to paper
so we don’t drown in anxiety and depression
regretting everything that’s never been said
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
When I tell you I’m a poet-
please take me seriously
don’t think I’m some cute girl
who writes a few verses in her room
about how your kiss is a new kind of heaven
Poetry for me has a much deeper meaning,
poetry is how I bleed out all of my emotions
I hold within
When I tell you I’m a poet-
please don’t laugh at me or mock me
don’t berate the simplicity of my words
I weave into verse
It’s how I make sense of my explosion of thoughts
It’s how I express what I can’t say out loud
When I tell you I’m a poet-
don’t try to cure me of my poetic nature
and prey on my insecurities and try to kill
my dreams of making my art seen
I know how the odds are stacked against
someone like me
I don’t do it to make it to the mainstream-
I do it so other women like me
can be seen, can be inspired to dream
And finally when I tell you I’m a poet-
Appreciate the artist in me,
make yourself a sanctuary to put my poetry in-
I’m not asking for endless compliments or an ego boost
I’m asking for a safe space in you to love
the poet I hold within
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
On days when I’m hopeful about love-
my laugh is lighter, my smile is brighter,
my thoughts are the color of the sky
thinking of the endless possibilities
of how I’ll be loved and the many places
me and my future somebody will go-
while my cringy playlists play on the car radio
and the many discussions or fights that might happen
because one of us said the wrong thing
or one of us won’t admit we got lost
I”m still hopeful though
keeping in mind that conflict is also part of how we’ll evolve
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I could be the poster child for love fiascos-
I love too fast, and too hard-
I’m the fool of the tarot
risking everything even my sanity for love-
getting caught up in feelings and magic
being delusional that somehow it could work out
even when the red flags scream at me-
I say fuck it-I switch off the logic button in me
and go all in
This was a really hard prompt for me to answer because, believe it or not, despite what you read on my blog, there have been a lot of men who have positively impacted my life. I think I’ll talk about the most recent one whom I became friends with this year. I met him at open mic years ago, but it wasn’t until this year that I started talking to him. So in January of this year, I was going through this major depression and for some reason, I started reading his book of poetry he gave it to me at open mic sometime in 2022. His book really resonated with me because his poetry has a lot of dark humor along with these raw feelings that hit you in the gut. I have to say that the only thing that made me laugh or smile on some days was reading his poems. I think it helped me cope with these really intense feelings of despair I was having. I probably should write a review about the book at some point, haha. I won’t tell him, though, cause that would be embarrassing. Anyways this year, I got to know him as a friend, and I liked that his communication style is straightforward and without any bullshit. He kind of called me out on my energy drink addiction, and that’s part of the reason I quit drinking them. I respect him a lot because he’s honest and authentic about who he is. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t care who likes him or doesn’t like him.He’s also provided me with books about poetry so I can improve on my craft and that’s been super helpful.I think I would call this friendship a reparative friendship with a man who I can trust and well, given my history, I haven’t had many of those so it’s nice. With all that being said, I hope this friendship continues into 2024. Below is a link to my friend’s book.
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/darwins-book-of-saints-alexander-johns/1128994557
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
This time it will be different-I lie to myself over and over again-
and for a while I’ll believe it-but it never works out and they always leave-
And I wonder how words fail me when this happens-
it’s a magnitude of emotions-
Intense, mega, uber, all consuming, overwhelming-
Some things cannot adequately expressed even with bilingual vocabulary-
maybe not everything is meant to be written down
it’s just meant to be felt, held intimately in my heart and mind
maybe it’s a private thing between me and the universe
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
In my car-I scream, sing, write, and cry
I dissociate to my radio-blasting out Conan Gray
I can be as crazy I as want to be-
without the fear of being judged or talked about
the seat is molded to my petite frame
perfect for meditation
or for allowing myself to fall into my insanity
makes videos about how beautiful life is-
or how I no longer want to participate in it
my car used to feed into my deepest fears
and insecurities
but now I worship it
if it wasn’t for this sacred space away
from my office and home
I don’t know how I would cope
when the intensity of my thoughts
knock on my mind’s door
Life on the BPD 