Day 22 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Crossing a Threshold”

Day 22 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Crossing a Threshold”

Day 20 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt is “Falling in Fall” .

I wrote this 2001 when I took a break from writing angry breakup poetry-lol. As an immigrant that grew up here, I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life. Issues with identity are also another trait of BPD. I think this was a time in my life when I was especially reflecting on this part of my identity because I was become aware that men were fetishizing me.

Caught between two worlds
what am I made up of more
hopefully I wonβt ever have to choose
sometimes I wish to just cut loose
Too Latina for the American side
Too Americanizada for the Latino side
So what is the politically correct term for someone like me?
Not American, not born here
Not fully Latina either
for I lack that latin allure
So Iβll call myself one of a kind
a girl with much Latin beauty and an American mind
like a delicious half and half cream
whose taste is an amazing mixed dream
Day 18 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “the trees narrate stories”.

Day 17 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. The prompt today is “Soulless Conundrum”.

Day 13 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge . Today’s prompt was “On a Moonlit Stage”.

Day 12 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt is “My Demons Write Poetry”.

Day 11 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt is “Liberation in Chains”.

I wrote this is 2006 in for my creative writing class. I wrote thinking about my sexuality when I was a teenager. I was hypersexual from a young age.

She was an adult like sixteen years old
Hormones racing like the speed of light
These were bitter enemies of the cold
Powerful sensations she had to fight
Had the body of a mature woman
But the maturity of one she lacked
But still she chose a stranger man
He told her quickly βLie on your back.β
She was swiftly incapacitated
Gone forever, her norms and behavior
As her callow body palpitated
With her lengthy new found pleasure
And this was the unforeseen joyous end
Of her already dying innocence
Day 9 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Drenched in Memories” .

Day 9 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge . The prompt was “Drenched in Memories” .

Day 6 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “A Deafening Silence”.


A Poem for My Third Born
You were the rainbow
That came after the most dreadful storm
You were wanted, you were planned
You were loved
You were everything
Anxiously, I waited for your arrival
Counting down the months, the weeks,
And eventually the days
Cautiously, I felt hope
With every flutter,
And every kick
You were a ninja
Determined to reassure
This worried mama that
You were okay-
And I glowed bright
From your inner light
And finally
The day came
I would get to meet
My newest love made creature
And with your birth
Life finally felt complete
My Youngest Son Circa 2012

Me and my youngest on 6/26/22
From the ages of 18 to 23, I worked for a government agency as an interpreter. I was well-liked by many of my coworkers and my first supervisor was appreciative of me. I was very good at my job and even cross-trained in many other areas that didn’t “pertain to my job”. However, at that job, I was also bullied and discriminated against for being Latina. I was also slut-shamed by my second supervisor and coworkers the latter 2 years I was there. I don’t want to say I deserved being slut-shamed but I’ll just say that I trusted the wrong coworkers with my private life and they went on to gossip about me to everyone. It was also a very stressful environment because of the work I did and clients I had to interact with. My depression and anxiety went haywire. In 2003, I decided to enroll in my local community college and major in English. In 2004, I was trying to go to school full time, work full time, and deal with my child’s new autism diagnosis. I was breaking down mentally and something had to give so I quit this job. I was fucking done. And this poem was inspired by that moment. I thought I had processed this trauma until it came back up in therapy in the summer of 2021. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had suffered a deep racial trauma that impacted me and still triggered reactions in me. I was angry. There is actually way more to this story and one day I’ll share it when I’m ready.

This was the hardest thing I did
but it had to be done
I couldnβt stand the gossip
or the two faces of everyone
the way they pretended to be my friend
but the minute I turned my back to them
they talked like I was the biggest wench
so much envy and hate
I HAVE TO ESCAPE
FROM THIS MISERABLE FATE!
so today I resigned
I didnβt tell them why
all I know is that for the first time
in a really long time
I feel something like happy
so long to the only place I have known
for an almost five year term
for once I breathe a sigh of relief
I finally had the courage to leave
so long to the hypocrisy of this place
to let myself stay here for another day
would only be a fucking waste