When people ask me why I’m obsessed with my recovery journey…
poesía: la abuela interviene
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Remembrance
cierro los ojos y un maremoto de nostalgia viene hacia mi
y corro y corro y corro pero me alcanza que me ahogo
y parte de mi quisiera regresar a mi pasado contigo cuando era feliz
y casi, casi te mando un mensaje preguntándote
Como estas? Si todavía sigues con ella? Si, por fin encontraste la felicidad que tanto anhelabas?
pero, mi abuela interviene y me sacude, abro mis ojos y regreso a mi presente
y encuentro mi razón y susurro al universo que te deseo lo mejor
pero acepto que lo nuestro cuento de amor es algo definitivamente acabado
como los cuentos de hadas que papi me contaba cuando era niña
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Inti
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
running in the sun warms my body, warms my thoughts
it invokes my need to worship it like my ancestors
before the colonizers declared it wrong and pagan
but they couldn’t erase my blood and my DNA
and my deep connection to the Sun,
my ancestral GOD
Always bringing me to the surface of gratitude and love
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poetry: waning moon
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I call to the waning moon for inspiration, for motivation
Some days it’s hard to keep going, to keep trying
I call to the waning moon to turn into Mama Killa
and bring me comfort and growth
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Poetry: The Fourth of July
This is a poem I wrote in July. I was angry when I wrote it. Lol.
celebrating a country that rips babies apart from their parents
and takes away rights from the marginalized
and makes anyone who’s not white and christian feel unwelcome
feels like the cruelest irony
it’s celebrating genocide, racism, prejudice, xenophobia, and white supremacy
it’s celebrating everything atrocious and wrong about this country
it almost feels like a personal violation of my beliefs
to celebrate the hypocrisy of this country
founded on genocide and slavery
who claims liberty and justice for all
but “all” is really white, christian and male
so I’m passing on this year’s 4th of July celebrations
because except for a small portion of Americans
no one can claim true freedom
or independence in this American Land
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Poesía: No Fue Mi Intención
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Remorseful Sentiments
de nuevo arruine todo
no fue mi intención-siempre empiezo tan bonito
pero por alguna razón siempre destruyo mi paraiso de amor
Está vez él no podía esperar para libersarse de mi-
será que en realidad soy demaciado
o los hombres que escojo no son suficiente?
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Legacy
I’m used to being the ultimate pushover-
allowing the energy of others to pollute
my energy and take up my time
It was the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn
be easy to get along with and always avoiding conflict,
I’d become the person they’d want me to be,
cutting away pieces of my authenticity-
I’d become easy to digest and swallow
I never valued myself or put myself first
It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family
Internalized misogyny sold to me at a young age
dressed up as selfless acts of love
but I’m done sacrificing myself for others
It’s time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being
I refuse to pass this down to the next generation
of woman who come after me
I’m here to take up space, roar like a lioness
and pass down a new legacy of self love
that took me 41 years too long to discover
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Poetry: Do I have to hide?
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I hide the craziest parts of myself
The parts that get sad,
The parts that get obsessed
The parts that lose hope
I hide the worst parts of myself
the parts that feel empty
The parts that feel numb
The parts that want to die
I hide the craziest and worst parts
of myself
so no one else will leave
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Poesía: Soy
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2021.
Soy la sangre de mis antepasados
Colonizadores e indígenas
y pues por estoy llena
de una ambigüedad
de moralidad
Y pues por eso tengo
la tez blanca con cabello negro y crespo
Soy la sangre de mis abuelos y abuelas
y pues por eso estoy
llena de frialdad
y tambien tengo
un calor único
Soy la sangre mis padres
Y por eso soy
débil y fuerte
Y callada con mal genio
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Poesia: Mi Deseo
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/29/poetry-i-wish-i-could/
Deseo olvidar todo lo que vivimos
el amor que hicimos, las risas que compartimos
Deseo hacerte ver el daño que me hiciste
Deseo hacer sentir mi agonía intensa y aguda
Deseo herirte y lentamente destruirte
Deseo que esto no me importara más
pero la vida no es justa
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Poem of the Day: El Chisme (Gossip) of My Ancestors
Day 21 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Where the stars meet” .
Life on the BPD 