I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
the gaslighting, the love bombing, the disappearing
weren’t the worst of your crimes
but together they added up to a mountain of trauma
It was the mt.everest of traumatic experiences
constantly making me wonder about the karmic debt
I was paying
making me wonder why I kept you in my life
allowed you to take up space in my mind and poems
sometimes I think I kept you solely for the fountain
of inspiration you drew out of me
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
I’m an expert at navigating the gray and vague trying to romanticize
and make fires out of the smallest of sparks
deluding myself into thinking if I stick around long enough
He’ll realize I’m the one
I wrote this poem in September of 2021.
I long to run free in a world free from prejudice and pride
I long to run free in a world free from judgment and ignorance
I long to run free in a world that accepts people like me
I long to run free in a world where I’m not hypervigilant
about toning myself down
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
karma bit me and now I’m paying for all of my emotional crimes
now I’m met with silence and indifference
and I go and examine what was the final straw
which post led you over the ledge
from friendship to being acquaintances once again
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
me and my cousins followed in our abuelas footsteps
having kids out of wedlock with men
who abandoned us and becoming the other woman
and God bless our parents for trying to break
this unhealthy cycles
but Gabriela’s blood is too strong for any of us
to fight off properly
so at some point as we come into adulthood
we search for love in the wrong places like her,
become pick mes and suffer the consequences
of our actions
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My jealousy is green and monstrous-
Its big and dramatic
It’s almost epic and i’m like dammit
I wish I wasn’t like this
but maybe it’s time to accept it
it’s not that I’m toxic
Or that something is wrong with me
I just need a lover who only has eyes for me,
who doesn’t think about other options
when he’s with me
who’s so obsessed with me,
I’m like the air he needs to breathe
in order to live
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
floating across the water, I’ve never felt more loved, I’ve never felt safer
and there’s something magical about this moment,
a poem or a picture I can’t capture
how I look like in utmost serenity and peace
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
touch me in such a way that I can’t get enough of you
stimulate all of my five senses until I lose myself completely
make forget how I promised myself never to fall in love again
make me yours with a passion that makes me
break my vow of celibacy for good reason
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
We danced and danced until we fell into each other
and consummated our desire
and you told me you loved me for the first time
it was then and there I knew we’d be together
the rest of our lives
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
I believe a good poem
will move you in such a way
it will evoke some emotion in you
I believe a great poem
will rip you apart, punch you in the gut
and render you completely speechless
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
I made promises to myself after your departure-
I promise to be completely myself for next love candidate-
No matter how crazy that may look like-
I promise to show him my prose and poetry-
even if it opens a door to hurtful truths
he deserves to know my past if he wants to be part of my present
and form a part of my future-
I promise to not place him on a pedestal
I’ll look for his humanity, truth, and accept him for who he is
and no matter how much I love him-
I won’t accommodate to him or compromise my integrity
He’ll have to learn to live with and love the strong woman I am today
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
the shelf of my bookcase breaks, and my poetry notebooks fall
every single one of my love stories scattered on the floor
Failure after failure
Were any of them worth the effort?
Was the experience worth the suffering?
Maybe it was for the inspiration behind my prose and poetry
and the growth I’ve had
Still, that doesn’t seem like an adequate answer
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
Back to black blast from my car radio as I drive aimlessly in the rain
I have a boyfriend but I still feel alone
It turns out that being in a relationship isn’t the cure for my loneliness after all
Some people will say it’s the long distance, others will say it’s how I still keep my guard up
I think it’s a mixture of both and how I have a tendency to fuck up in love
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
I breathe grief in, I exhale grief out
my pain needs a way out
because despair and sorrow fill up my lungs
and anger sits at the bottom of my stomach
and I’m tired of living like this
a life full of emotional intensity
And supposedly there’s a cure for it
with therapy and radical acceptance
but how do I accept that every man
who’s ever professed his love to me
always leaves
Will my romantic misfortune one day end?
or am I destined to repeat the same story
of abandonment
over and over again?
I wrote this poem in August of 2025.
your lips on my ear with I least expect it
I can tell you’re going to be different
you’re not one for wasting time to see
if the chemistry right
and by the goosebumps I feel
as the hair on my arms stand up
I can see it really is
Life on the BPD 