poetry: he doesn’t exist

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

dating advice from my youngest son

I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me
but I’m starting to think he doesn’t exist
I swipe and swipe on the dating apps
but no one is of interest to me
and so I find solace in an unrequited love
that will never be more than friendship
it’s the best I can do to quell the romantic in me

poetry: shack

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

at least it’s a pretty rundown shack

my body feels like a rundown shack
that’s crumbling down slowly
I can’t get up in the morning
without my knee or hip
bitching and moaning
without me groaning in pain
and mumbling to myself
β€œOmg, another stupid day”
and cursing my genetics
that make me watch everything
I eat
and again I wonder
am I paying a karmic debt
for my colonizer ancestors

poetry: seasons change

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

you’ve change from spring to autumn within moments
never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve
never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism
I’ve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background

poetry: heaven

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

vibe: victorian and broody

this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
don’t know which way is up
don’t know which way is down
don’t know what is right
don’t know what is wrong
I want someone’s hand to hold but they reach for my breast
I want innocent kisses on the cheek
but they reach for the heaven between my thighs

Poetry: Sunday

I wake up on a Sunday
Mad and angry
You’re not here
In my arms
Because I was too much
I was too Insane
Too old
So I lay alone
In tears that won’t fall
Numb
Wondering-
When will I ever
Find someone
To take away
The numbness
Of the experience
Of a life not loved
Of a face not kissed
Of an intimacy faked!

poetry: fix me

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

can’t imagine why anyone wants to fix this picture of perfection

everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we can’t forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder what’s so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws

poetry: whack an asshole

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

for real

I hope this story is buried for a final time
and you don’t pop up again
and I have to play whack an asshole
once again
blocking you on yet another platform
would the universe be kind enough this time
for it to be good riddance forever
cause I’m tired of my past mistakes
to constantly come out of nowhere
to disturb my present

poetry: jon benet lookalike

I wrote this poem in June of 2024. It was inspired by the disappearance of little Latina girl in my area that I didn’t feel was getting enough media attention.

it’s how this story made me feel

I pray for the little brown girl lost in Gainesville
the one that’s my son’s age
the one that looks like my sister at that age
the one who has my mami’s name
I pray she’s found alive
I pray that she finds warmth in her parents
arms soon
I pray more of a big deal is made out of
her disappearance
and she’s found quickly
because I’m sure that if this little girl
had been a jonbenet look alike
more would have been done to find her
and bring her back to her family
her community
that’s been missing her greatly

poetry: glass of champagne

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

a toast to this woman

a glass of champagne in my hand as I raise a toast
who I used to be
a woman mentally ill and needy
a woman who gave men easy access to her hips
a woman who thought intimacy could only be created
and felt in between her sheets
we say goodbye to the his woman lovingly
as we usher a new era of me
a woman who knows her worth
and won’t settle of anything less
than she deserves

Poetry: Border

me in the summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

There is a border around you

Cemented with callousness

Every now and then 

I see glimpses of good-

Within you

But only on the nights

When you are drunk and lonely

Only the nights

When you want my skin 

To cover yours

You give me orgasms 

And sweet compliments

And fill me up with lies-

And the day after

Your border is closed

Its impenetrable

So hard to break through

So hard to keep loving you

So I give up

Every time I TRY

To chisel a little at it 

My heart hurts

and breaks a  little more

So I”ll stop trying to break through

No matter how happy you make me

For a few hours

You’re not worth

Days, weeks, and months 

Of misery 

Poetry: Once Again

Again and again and again

-I let you back in 

You take me in passionately

    and intensely

And without thinking

I’m back in your arms

  And for the briefest of moments

I believe you love me 

 Loneliness makes one blind

To the sad reality 

You just like the convenience of my hips

Lust makes one blind 

To the hard truth

You just like to use 

The warmth of my body

To covers yours 

At your leisure 

poetry: rebranding

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

soft girl energy

I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am

Poetry: False Stability *Trigger Warning*

The last time my ex fat shame me..

Appearances were kept well for 15 years

 the husband, the salaried job, the 3 offsprings

I pretended like everything was fine

And yet there were ominous signs

I never felt like my authentic self

and always felt false

I tried on this so called suburban bliss 

and mediocres routines

but knew it just wasn’t me

So I ended up in  profound misery

And one day I wanted to forever sleep

To forget my mediocre reality

 I took 15 numb feeling pills

one for every pseudo happy year

I wanted to slip into a forever dream

to never wake to my false stability 

poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity