I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
you look lost in your thoughts
is there something wrong, something I did-
what’s on your mind that makes you silent and sad
tell me what’s going on-
so I can help lessen your burden
poetry: burden
poetry: obsessed
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I wish I could forgive everyone who did me harm-
but something in me won’t allow me too
maybe it’s unprocessed trauma that still wants to speak-
about every single atrocity I’ve experienced
at the hands of those who said
they care for me and love me
I really wish I was better than this-
constantly holding onto these old grudges
but something in me still needs to heal
so I can stop obsessing about revenge
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poetry: close to recovery
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
outgrowing old patterns is like I’m shedding my skin
And new healthy skin is replacing it
at times I want to scream and feel like I’m dying
and other times I’m fine
Am I finally close to recovery from BPD?
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poetry: waltz
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
breathing out the past, inhaling the future
I fall into emotional stability and it’s uncomfortable
I didn’t understand or know how to live a life without chaos
because for most of my life
I danced in the fire of chaos-wildly swinging everywhere
Discordant and without direction
And now I found rhythm along with direction
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poetry: prophet
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
false words fall from the lips of the supposed chosen prophets
and some people are desperate enough to believe them
some people see hope in those words in a world
that has forgotten about them
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poetry: run
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
The way my body feels as my legs take flight brings freedom to my soul
It brings me a sense of amazement thinking of how
I went from couch potato to a woman who needs a run in the sun
to feel grounded, to feel sane
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poetry: right for me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
in 2021, I ventured from the moon and landed on the ace of pentacles
never expecting to experience a revolution of self love
never expecting to one day feel like I was enough
but when I found myself down and alone
with no one to lift me up
I had to find my inner strength, my queen resilience
to slowly lift myself up and walk and eventually run
towards the light my ancestors turned on for me
it became a marathon of healing with ugly twists
where I stumbled at times
but eventually I found a rhythm in my routine
that was conducive to my healing journey
and I learned to dance with life
life no longer happened to me as I sat quietly
and in my misery
this time I danced with life stomping my feet
loudly and dramatically
no longer caring what others thoughts of me
from that moment on
I became the heroine and my own muse
in my life movie
owning everything that happened to me
Understanding the power and magic
I always held within
had been and will always be too much for others
but it will always be right for me
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poetry: stillness
I wrote this poem in October of 2020.
The stillness in my life makes me insane
I’m craving an adventure
I’m craving ecstasy
I’m craving the unpredictable
To lie in the stillness feels like dying
and I want to live
Live life spontaneously,live life musically
Live a life full of excitement
To live in this stillness makes me feel like
I’m drowning in a lake of stagnation
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poetry: the stranger
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
I don’t recognize the
Stranger in the mirror-
the me whose face
has more chiseled features
with a stronger jawline
and haunted eyes
There is no idealism
or fantasies of love
in her eyes
Instead, she stares back
at me with a look
of strength and determination-
like she’s saying –
“You’re your own savior “
and
“There’s no such thing as
Prince Charming”
-“The princess has been left
behind and you’re now a Queen”
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poetry: our journey
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
we went from devils to fools within a span of a couple of years
it’s a journey that almost broke us
one that needed to be taken apart
you needed to find out who you were without alcohol
I needed to find out who I was without a lover
and when we met again
I was deathly afraid to let you back in
and kept my guard up
making sure we didn’t fall back into the toxicity
we used to bask in
and various times I thought that meant
blocking you, ghosting you, taking what you said personally
but really it was me being careful with my ego and energy
not wanting to risk another emotional relapse
and the last time I let you go
I really thought we were done
but on a september night, you texted again
And while I tried to keep it platonic
I couldn’t help myself and found myself
in your arms once again
trying desperately to keep it casual,
to say no strings attached at all,
you can leave when you want to
but how can I do this when I keep
thinking about you
and suddenly I find myself a fool
in our journey
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poetry: lie
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I tell myself I’m not capable of love-
but that’s another lie
the truth is I’m very capable of love
But I’m afraid of it, I’m terrified of showing my vulnerability
only to once again be proven wrong, to once again go crazy
Only to once again endure the abandonment of another lover
So I lie to myself and say I’m not capable of love
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poetry: moon goddess
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity
as I drink too much
as I search for someone’s touch
the moon sends the Goddess
with a message of awareness
and I wake up from my trance of self destruction
and start an inner healing revolution
my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified
it was my judgment gone awry
and I try respect and worth on for size
my beauty is not all there is to me
I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity
never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy
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poetry: under
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I feel left out by my friends and I cry and whine
“they hate me, I’m not good enough for them”
my voice of reason tells me
“it will be okay, you don’t need them”
it’s my sister
I break down in the middle of the sidewalk
and cry and scream
“I’m unworthy of love, I’ll be alone forever”
my voice of reason tells,
“that’s not true, you just need to focus on you boo”
It’s my son
my voice of reason has comforted me and loved me unconditionally
my voice of reason keeps me from going under
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Poetry: Prodigal Daughter
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
the prodigal daughter returns to a homeland that she barely remembers
it’s been 32 years since she stepped foot on Peruvian soil
and this feeling is unworldly-indescribable-unimaginable
she was a child when she left
never quite understanding the whys or hows of her family’s immigration journey
in her adopted homeland, she suffered through hardships and failures
but the ancestors always protected her
from drowning in the immense waves of chaos and disasters, she ended up being tossed in
and she’ll go to their graves and pay reverence to them for shielding her from danger
the prodigal daughter returns, and she feels nostalgia rushing into her body and mind
she is finally where she belongs
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poetry: summer storms
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
the storms this summer have been intense and scary
Some days I had to run for cover, other days I ended up
saturated in self hate
the storms this summer tried desperately to tear me apart
ruin my reputation
everyone watched me waiting for me to turn into
a trainwreck
but instead I do what I always do
rise out of the ashes most triumphantly
Life on the BPD 