I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
the facade of equality is cloaked in good intentions and lovely words-
and while laws have been passed to prevent discrimination
and to try to level the game of success,
it’s all a sham, it’s all a con
we still live in a world where the color of your skin and social status
and gender determine your prosperity
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
did you drink your water today?
did you remind yourself you’re worthy of love?
did you understand you were always enough?
will you repeat after me-
I won’t run away from or suppress my feelings
I need to face my emotions head on
or else I’ll break down
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
you were my hope in love restored
everything I had dreamed of
everything I had wished for
and it was nice for a while-
getting lost in our love
thinking it was safe,
thinking it could be my permanent sanctuary
until one day like clockwork
you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t enough
and I was left wondering “what the fuck is wrong with me?”
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
At 5 am, I woke up and wrote a 4 page poem
about how I wasn’t enough and proceeded to crash my car
and my therapist asked if I wanted to die-
And I was like “nah, I just couldn’t reign my impulsivity in”
at least this time I got control of the car and didn’t fuck
anyone else up
Here is the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Nothing More
como una tonta doy lo mejor de mi y me conformo con lo más mínimo
para sentir algo de amor
como una tonta me achicó hasta no existir para acomodarme a tu ego
como una tonta me quedo calladita y guardo mis opiniones dentro de mi
para que no me dejes
como una tonta pienso que esta vez tendré una fin feliz
por tanto esfuerzo que hago
como una tonta siempre repito la misma tragedia de amor
sin aprender mi lección
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
The rain falls steadily in August
and I feel a sense of dread, a sense of hopelessness
and I want to dwell on everything I lack,
on everything I’m a failure at-
But I stop myself because while sadness has served as inspiration
and has a place in my mind and life
I can’t allow it to take over my life and consume me
because this is not my whole story
I’m more than being sad and angry
What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My default setting must be sad
because when a wave of happiness comes
all I can feel is anxiety
a stabbing in my gut that makes me nauseous
maybe I’m still getting used to this new feeling
of joy and excitement in my life
Maybe I don’t know how to deal with
finally being healthy and happy
maybe I’m just used to my constant state of misery
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to water my roots with the supposed love of others
their compliments, their energy made me whole
but eventually they’d tired of being my water, my earth
my everything and leave
And I was left once again incomplete-
until one day I learned to water my roots with my tears,
my strength, my self-love
And now my growth and potential are infinite
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
My favorite words are my sons names
names that taught me about patience
and unconditional love
names that have made me get up
when I didn’t want to
names that fill me with faith and hope
when I’m about to lose it
names that make me want to become
a better person than I was yesterday
names I live for
names I would die for
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to have a tunnel vision of love
thought it could only be felt with someone
but I was wrong
love is in the trees
love is in the ocean
love is in the earth
and love is in myself
my higher power taught me this
and it’s a lesson I’ll forever cherish
Aqui esta la version en español:
Poesia: Podría Ser
I’m not the woman of your dreams or the woman you’ll worship as a deity
or the woman who accommodates and bends according to your needs
but I’m the woman who’ll haunt you with the “what ifs”,
I’m the woman who’ll fuel your creativity,
I’m the woman who’ll make you believe magics exists
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I give my pain and sorrow to God
and it lessens the heaviness in my soul
and I’ve never felt lighter
and I laugh more and feel content and gratitude
and I no longer want to die
Instead I’m excited to live
I’m excited about my wrinkles and every birthday
because I’m finally enjoying the gift of life
God has bestowed on me
here is a link to the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Dead to ME
no debí creer en tus promesas
pero quería darte una una oportunidad nueva
para cambiar tu cuento de cobarde al héroe
pero de nuevo me decepcionaste
esto me pasó por ser una terca, una romántica
y pensar que las personas pueden cambiar
Aqui esta la version en español :
Poesia: Demaciado Sencilla
you told me I’m not wife material
so you dropped me like I was nothing
but not before you took me to your bed a few times
but not before filling my head with the illusion
that you wanted a future with me-
Are you sick in the head?
Is this how you always operate?
Finding an insecure girl to get your primal needs met
and later on dropping them like a bad habit
Life on the BPD 