the intruder within me won’t quit
she remembers every wrong done to her
and every mistake she’s made
and starts the game of how much self loathing
i can take
And I used to try to quell her with affirmations
but lately I tell her-tell me more-
And I listen and write out her words
about every insecurity that still plagues me
and she stops because it’s no longer fun
so she leaves once she’s acknowledged
and once again I return to my inner peace
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.
these must be the new dark age of my life
where I can’t find my life’s purpose,
where I cry because I don’t think
I’ll ever be loved
where the sleeping pills in my drawers
are tempting me to end my misery
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.
their used knicknacks, their used clothes
their used whatever is taking up too much space
in their closet or garage
all of this is given to their browner and poorer
counterparts
act like ever act of charity will bring them
one step closer to heaven
when at times their recipients feel
like it’s a act of condescension, arrogance
a way to remind them where they belong
a way to remind them of their working
class status
the haves need the have nots to have someone
to feel superior to
while the have nots cannot escape
the cycle of poverty
due to the greed of the haves
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.
another 4 years of trump and who knows if America
will still be standing
if anyone who’s not male or white will still have rights
another 4 years of trump and I see a future of fascism
and dictatorship and U.S born citizens being sent back
to their parent’s country of origin
another 4 years of trump and I’m not sure I’ll still be alive
or at very least still maintain a semblance of my sanity
7/29/24
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.
july, july, july
it’s the month where I lose my mind
the heat gets to me and turns up the BSC in me
you won’t find me sweet and eager to please in July
you won’t find me full of ruffles and flowery phrases
in poetry
you’ll find me being a ball of immigrant rage and fury
you’ll find me a woman who’s had enough
of the American dream bullshit
and ready to roar and scream out everything wrong
with this country
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
as long as there is breath left in me
I will try
try to be a good mom to my kids
try to tell my story
try to love everyone the best way
i can
try to find understanding
for what happened to me
try to find joy in the most ordinary
of moments
try to dance my way through
my most depressive episodes
try find my inner peace and calm
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
hold onto hope, don’t let go
one day you’ll laugh about this
one day you’ll be okay
hold onto hope, don’t let go
Remember all of the times
you’ve been strong
Remember all of the times
you put one foot in front of the other
hold onto hope, don’t let go
your story is still being written
you’re still in time to change
your narrative
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
lately I hate everything I have written
Sometimes I get the urge to burn
Or delete everything
but something tells me
this is how I know I’m growing
I’m evolving in my craft
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me
but I’m starting to think he doesn’t 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
it’s 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 can’t get up in the morning
without my knee or hip
bitching and moaning
without me groaning in pain
and mumbling to myself
“Omg, another stupid day”
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
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.
everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we can’t forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder what’s so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
my exes should all get a participation trophy
for dating me, for marrying me,
for putting up my madness
for becoming muses of my poetry
unwillingly, unintentionally
for surviving the rollercoaster
that is me
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
I hope this story is buried for a final time
and you don’t pop up again
and I have to play whack an asshole
once again
blocking you on yet another platform
would the universe be kind enough this time
for it to be good riddance forever
cause I’m tired of my past mistakes
to constantly come out of nowhere
to disturb my present
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
for once I want to be missed, for once I want to be remembered
for once I want to feel valuable and worth effort
but it’s a fantasy I need to let go of
it’s a dream that will never come true
it’s time to grow up and plant my feet firmly on the ground
acknowledge my worth and hold onto my pride and dignity
and stop chasing delusions and daydreams
aside for all of the inspiration
it’s never gotten me anywhere
