PerdΓ mi razΓ³n porque me quitaste tu amor PerdΓ mis ganas de vivir cuando te fuistes PedΓa que la muerte me lleve para no sentir el mΓ‘s profundo dolor dentro de mi me sentia que me hundia en una arena movediza de amargura y furia y no encontraba nada para sacarme
Me pregunto si ella te hace sentir lo que alguna vez sentistes conmigo o si ella te llena de placer como yo alguna vez lo hice y una ΓΊltima pregunta que tenΓa ella, que tu me dejaste porque la elegiste? Acaso yo era tan mala?
and sometimes those meltdowns include angry poems like this one…lol
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 womenβs empowerment and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment perhaps itβs because Iβm a working class immigrant woman who struggles in America perhaps itβs 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 isnβt worth my time or energy itβs 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 want to be dripping in velvet and have the problems of the rich like finding a new pool man because the last one got sick of my condescending and pompous ways or cry because Iβm bored and canβt figure out how to fill up my day in a way that keeps me entertained but instead Iβm stuck in my working class cursed life where my joints and bones ache in chronic pain from constantly over working where Iβm constantly fighting to make ends meet without losing my sanity And constantly questioning my existence because of my suffering
I wrote this poem about someone I haven’t met yet.
honest and real intimacy comes with the passage of time it comes with stupid and terrible fights Where love survives it comes with health scares and encouragement as each person evolves honest and real intimacy is not about consummated desire that happens between the sheets itβs not about butterflies and daydreams itβs about saying βGoddamn, this man is an oblivious and sometimes an arrogant asshole but I still want to keep himβ
Por fin parΓ³ el dolor que sentΓa por tu ausencia Por fin te puedo agregar a mi historia de amor Sin resentimientos o tristeza Por fin puedo cerrar el capΓtulo que fue nosotros Por fin puedo encender y quemar todo lo que alguna vez fuimos
a text from an unknown number reminded me of my past when I was sick with a love addiction when I gave in to my impulsivity when I gave my energy freely to anyone who paid attention to me
ella es original con su forma de hablar, su forma de ser, su forma de escribir ella es la ΓΊnica que me trae paz y alegrΓa con su esencia especial amarla me siento como un sueΓ±o celestial del cual nunca quiero despertar si no fuera por ella mi vida serΓa incompleta
me about to pop this balloon of my self limiting beliefs
As I let go of my self 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, βthat could have been meβ and giving too much importance to the opinions of others wondering constantly- βare they judging me?β It was a 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
Te dije que no estaba preparada pero no me quisistes escuchar Y insististe, insististe que yo era la ΓΊnica para ti que tu me amabas nunca me preguntastes sobre mi comodidad nunca me preguntaste si estaba bien mandarme piropos y fotos sensuales Y cuando te pedΓ respecto a mi persona me acusaste de ser otra loca mΓ‘s
me on June 26 outside the courthouse after I filed for divorce-proud I was able to follow this process through
my fingers tingle and almost grew numb as I gripped the wire and the tightrope shook I wanted to give up it would have been so easy but something in me didnβt allow me to terrified I took the slowest step forward radically accepting in that moment I will never be a quitter
I want to fast forward to the version of me whoβs not always in her head whoβs not struggling to regulate her emotions whoβs not so fucking jaded and negative when it comes to love whoβs not terrified of change who doesnβt take things personally I know, I know I shouldnβt wish to be anyone else and fully live and enjoy this version of myself but lately, Iβm having a hard time moving on to the next level of my life everything feels so comfortable everything feels so peaceful Iβm scared to make any waves and return to chaos even if I know itβs necessary to get to YOU the future version of me who embraces change with courage and bravery Only this version of can dream of