Escribí este poema en el 2003 acerca de Lucas. La nostalgia de el me visitaba frecuentemente y eso me inspiraba bastante.
Cuantos años pasaran Para pararte de amar Cuantos labios besare Para sacarte de mi mente Cuantos pensamientos más tendré de ti Hasta poder olvidarme de ti Cuando se me quitara este deseo De querer vivir contigo en un sueño Cuando parare De quererte ver
Escribi este poema en Febrero del 2003 pero no me acuerdo quien inspiro este poema.
Yo quisiera ser esa mujer que te hace olvidar Todo ese mal de aquella mujer que te hizo perder la fe yo quisiera besar Todas las heridas De sus desgraciadas mentiras Yo quisiera ser algo más Que simplemente tu amiga
Escribí este poema en Noviembre del 2002. Fue inspirado por muchas experiencias que había tenido en ser siempre “la chica divertida del momento” para los hombres y nunca la chica con la cual quieren compartir su vida.
siempre
Ellos quedan acostados en la cama El la mira, ella tan dormida, tan quieta Y el piensa en muchas cosas Aquel acuerdo que hicieron Cuando todo esto empezó Las condiciones que el le pidio a ella Que ella nunca podría enamorarse de el Y lo único que ellos podrían tener sería un juego de sexo y nada mas Tan simple que todo esto empezó Pero el nunca contó con enamorarse de esta niña-ingenua, inconveniente, e inocente de la vida No contaba con extranar a esta niña Caprichosa pero con una dulzura tierna Y por fin Nunca se imaginaba con este dia que ahora no siente poder vivir sin ella y sus pequeñas riquezas
Escribí este poema en 2002 acerca de Lucas. Estaba bien amarga y llena de amargura porque él nunca quiso dejar a su esposa. Mis pensamientos eran irracional e ilógico. Esto pasa cuando uno tiene trastorno límite de la personalidad.
pero el me olvido como los otros
El romance paro gracias a tu cobardía Nunca quisistes pelear Por aquel amor que me decias Que te hacía querer vivir la vida Y yo me quedo aquí Sola y desilusionada Y tu Con el viejo hábito Que se llama “tu esposa”
Escribí este poema en 2002 acerca cuando estaba involucrada con mi compañero de trabajo Lucas que estaba casado. Estaba bien celosa y amarga.
La Verdad, yo fui una de muchas
Usted qué espera señor Que le siga dando amor Sabiendo que usted comparte mis caricias, mis noches Tambien con ella Sabiendo que me duele el alma Cada vez que me entero Que usted estuvo con aquella Lo siento, pero no estoy aquí para ser su tonta Por nuestro “amor” Esta historia tiene que parar Y no lo quiero ver nunca más
I wrote this about my ex Juan in the year 2000.Juan was an interesting character. I met him in October of 1999 while I was working at a gas station. We dated from October to December. He was either super charismatic or I was super dumb. We had fun. Since we lived with our parents, we had to be creative as to where we would have sex. I remember one time we had sex at work during my shift on my boss’ desk. Lol. However, Juan also conned me out of almost $3000 I had saved up saying his family needed the money. I hated myself afterwards. I also cheated on him with Sam. Anyways, Juan ghosted me in December and tried to come back sometime around January or February of the next year. I agreed to meet him because I was interested in getting my money back. Well, I got in his car and while he was driving around my neighborhood, he kept trying to put his hand in between my legs. I kept pushing him away, but he wouldn’t stop and kept getting more aggressive. Idk how but eventually I gathered my strength and anger and elbowed him in the crotch and managed to get out of the moving car. I never heard from him again. I should have been traumatized from that incident but I wasn’t. I think that while I was in the car with him, I was more pissed than scared of him. Looking back at this incident, it feels crazy that this didn’t affect me.
Me and Juan in November of 99Not a lie…lol
My dear amor How can I tell you? That I no longer love you How can I hurt you? By saying that all of the extraordinary feeling I once felt have gone and faded away from my heart and soul It’s not that I’ve falling in love with someone new It’s just that our special bond has been broken in two When you use to kiss me I used to think I was in heaven Now I just feel empty So sorry to say, but baby you’re fired
So I wrote this essay a couple of years ago as I was reflecting about the end of my marriage:
As my eight year marriage comes to its inevitable end, I’ve been rewatching the series Mad Men. When I first watched the series, I admired Joan and Peggy for being strong female characters in the show but I always thought there was something about Betty Draper that I could relate to. It’s strange to think about considering she’s a white upper class sixties housewife in New York and I’m a working class millennial immigrant Latina woman in Georgia. It’s hard to grasp that there would be any similarities between but there are many indeed.
Betty and Don at Fancy Event
(Me and Hubs at my brother’s wedding reception)
Betty feels trapped in her suburban idyllic existence and often times feels frustrated; I’ve also felt this way throughout the past fifteen years. Betty wonders if there is more to life than what she is living which is rearing children and being a good wife; I’ve constantly wondered the same thing except that I have the added burden of working.
Don, Betty’s husband acts like she should be happy with her life and gets mad at her when she shows real emotion, kind of accuses her of being crazy and sends her to a psychiatrist that he secretly talks to about her sessions without her consent and knowledge. My husband never went so far but for most our relationship he did accuse me of over reacting and/or accuse me of being crazy if I got “emotional” about something and/or brought up needs that weren’t being met in our relationship. It always felt that I was expecting too much out of our relationship for wanting normal things in a relationship. My husband has also acted like I should settle for what the little he can give me in terms of companionship and be happy with that since he was. For a long time, I felt that maybe I could and should settle for this but settling made me miserable for several years.
Don also kind of stopped investing time and energy into his marriage. He took Betty for granted because they were married with two children and hid behind his work and his many dalliances. My husband was never one to make time for us or continue to woo me in any sense after we started living together. Instead, he hid behind the raising of our children and the fact that he was always tired. He could never spontaneously compliment me and I was always either too fat or almost too skinny for him. Betty overlooked Don’s lack of affection for several years in the same way I overlooked my husband’s. I feel that this had to do with how women are conditioned to be polite and swallow their emotions because again–we’ll be accused of being crazy and/or hysterical.
The beginning of the end of Betty and Don’s marriage started when Betty eventually gets fed up after having one of Don’s affairs rub in her face and throws Don out but later they get back together because she finds out she’s pregnant with their third child. Don does try to be a somewhat better husband but eventually goes back to his philandering ways. There have been a few times throughout our relationship that I did try to break up with my husband but because he always apologized and said he would change, I always took him at his word and wanted to believe he would change. We even planned our third child and got married shortly after getting pregnant. I think I subconsciously did this because I thought a baby and a marriage would be the band aids that would fix “us”.
Betty eventually gets tired of Don’s lack of effort and also his lies and eventually asks for a divorce, she tells him something like, “I don’t feel anything when I kiss you”; it seems that this was when she knew that it was over for her and Don. For me, it took me a couple of years to be firm in my decision to divorce my husband. I think that I finally realized that there was no way I could continue the façade of our marriage when I realized that I no longer cared that he didn’t notice me or felt anything remotely like romantic love when I kissed him. It took him a while to understand why I wanted a divorce since he was happy with “us” and his main concerns were, “what about the taxes?” or “what about the kids?”. But like Don, he eventually agreed to it and said that he wouldn’t fight me about it. It’s kind of eerie that women like myself can still relate to a sixties housewife when it comes to relationships, marriages, and the stigma of divorce. I’m sure that people wonder why I would stay in a stagnant and awful relationship/marriage; that’s simple; I loved my husband. I thought that loving him meant that I had to settle for a marriage devoid of any real affection. I thought that the love I felt for him would be enough to change him one day.
Escribi este poema en el 2008 cuando estaba enfadada con mi esposo por que el no me daba mi lugar en frente de su familia. Su familia de el eran racistas conmigo.