the story continue from 2007 on with this poem.

caught up in a cycle of nostalgia
old letters and photos and 90s music
trying to remember who I was
before I became someoneβs mom
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

hold onto hope, donβt let go
one day youβll laugh about this
one day youβll be okay
hold onto hope, donβt let go
Remember all of the times
youβve been strong
Remember all of the times
you put one foot in front of the other
hold onto hope, donβt let go
your story is still being written
youβre still in time to change
your narrative
escribΓ este poema en Junio del 2024.

quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que te olvides de mi
que pares de insistir en resucitar
nuestro cuento de amor
porque siempre vamos a querer
cosas diferentes
tu quieres una conexiΓ³n superficial
lleno de noches apasionadas
y sabanas mojadas
mientras que yo deseo algo
profundo y puro
una conexiΓ³n sΓ³lida
que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar
quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que ya no me busques
porque por mas que yo quisiera
mi corazΓ³n no se deja ablandar
para ti por mas que lo intente

Iβm used to being a doormat
always allowing peopleβs energy to pollute
my life and take up my time
itβs the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn
be easy to get along with with,always avoiding conflict,
become the person they want me to be, always easy to digest and swallow
cutting away pieces of my authenticity-
never valuing myself or putting myself first
It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family
Internalized misogyny sold to me at young age
dressed up as selfless acts of love
but Iβm done sacrificing myself for others
Itβs time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being
I refuse to passed this down to the next generation
of woman who come after me
Iβm here to take up space, roar like a lioness
and passed down a new legacy of self love
that took me 41 years to learn
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me
but Iβm starting to think he doesnβt 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
itβs the best I can do to quell the romantic in me
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

my body feels like a rundown shack
that’s crumbling down slowly
I canβt get up in the morning
without my knee or hip
bitching and moaning
without me groaning in pain
and mumbling to myself
βOmg, another stupid dayβ
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

Out of the saddest minds
Comes the greatest creativity
I wonder why that is–
Is it because there are
No boundaries set in our minds?
Is it because
We live 100 lives
In 1 lifetime?
Is it because we are easily
Inspired by devastation and loss?
It is because pain and sadness
Flows out of us
More easily than others

He lies in the scent
Of our lovemaking
On love stained sheets
From βusβ
He lies with an
Angelic look on his face
With a recently delivered
Afterglow of new love
He lies in the freshly made world of intimacy
We have just created
He lies with eyes shut
And heavenly blood red lips
That call me baby
And I get ready to leave
With dreadful
Back to the reality
That doesnβt include
My Adonis
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

youβve 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
Iβve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble
than it was worth
always viewing things in extremes
always making devils and angels out of people
who are really just mortals
my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse
or my biggest blessing depending on the season,
the weather or the day
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
donβt know which way is up
donβt know which way is down
donβt know what is right
donβt know what is wrong
I want someoneβs 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

I wake up on a Sunday
Mad and angry
Youβre not here
In my arms
Because I was too much
I was too Insane
Too old
So I lay alone
In tears that wonβt 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!