I wrote this poem in April of 2022:
I’ve been called an exclamation mark before
But I feel more like a question mark
Because I always ask questions like:
Why am I like this?
How do I get rid of anxious thoughts?
Where does my heart really reside?
What is best for me?
Who will love me?
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
I manifest a new boyfriend
he’s a poem in the making
he’s someone I’ll meet unexpectedly
He’ll come when the marigolds sprout
and spring is here
He’ll be brave enough to try me on
after I trauma dump
he’ll be my new spring waiting
to bloom with me
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
try to keep my romantic spirit alive
with a swenting of a man who doesn’t exist
Yet
a man I will call my boyfriends y el amor de mi vida
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
subtitles jump from my phone screen violently
one of the few films from 1950’s mexico
that address domestic violence
one of the few films to portray the man
as the crazy one
but instead of him going to prison
for his many crimes against his wife
he ends up locked up in a monastery
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
Listening to my writing playlist while high
a lot of songs about men begging the women
to come back
Interesting
It is a hidden fetish, fantasy I had
a man continuously
suffering for me
regretting the day they fumbled me
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
what if the colonizer in me took over
and I declared manifest destiny on every man
I fancied, even if he was taken
what if I didn’t care about the other woman
and was a completely selfish bitch
and become an expert homewrecker
I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
Check your privilege at the door
every single white person who comes
asking for my opinion
I can’t be your agreeable POC anymore
Check your privilege at the door
I’m not the voice for my community
with you, certain topics I can’t explore
don’t use me as another learning opportunity
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
one day in bed and my son acts like its the end of the world
demands I get up and act like an adult
like the mother he’s used to seeing
but in defiance, I stay in bed
reading poetry and allow the muse to come and allow me
to pour out of me and land on paper
for once I won’t allow the patriarchy define how I should act,
who I should be
for once I allow the poet me to be my first priority
I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
His love made her glow
she shone, shone, shone
it was her happy ending
after a lifetime of misunderstanding
it was the sunshine she needed
after so many sad ballads
it was beautiful,it was lovely
it was the ultimate love story
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
feet washed and kissed in front of others
everyone calls her blessed and lucky
no one knows about the scars she hides
beneath her lilac modest dress
no one believes her if she told them
what a monster he was behind closed doors
I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
her warmth keeps me safe and loved
it protects me from the harshness of this world
I call her Mami
her strength inspires me to stand up for myself
it makes me want to become a better version of myself
I call her my sister
Her ability to be there for me keeps me from dying
It keeps from falling into a dark abyss
I call her my friend
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
we’re in our saorsa era, redemptive and honest
a complete 180 turn to who we were before
a story I like so much better than our last one
always said I was a much better friend
and girlfriend
I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
I shouldn’t wish death upon anyone
but I wish death upon you
the minute your child posted about your open heart surgery
and immediately , it makes sense,
a man with a weak mind has an even weaker heart
I shouldn’t wish death upon anyone
but I wish death upon you
couldn’t you die on the operating table?
you never deserved your life with your beautiful children
you-who made me carry the burden of shame and guilt
for years and years
I shouldn’t wish death upon anyone but I wish death upon you
you-who desecrated my morality and ethics through
your domestic authority
I shouldn’t wish death upon anyone but I wish death upon you
because someone like doesn’t deserve to breathe
the same breath of real human beings
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
Cowboy with your boots and maga hat
Stay away from me
forget I ever existed
forget that once upon a time
I was your wendy to your peter
forget I always flew to you
when you texted me
Life on the BPD 