I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
what is it about poets and writers I find so attractive
maybe it’s how they play with words
that makes me yearn to become their muse
maybe it’s their expression of passion
that makes them the object of my obsession
maybe it’s because their creativity makes
me want to make poetry with their bodies
this poem is inspired by the 2006 “acknowledgement”.
a wolf in sheep’s clothing got to me
he pretended to be my friend
with endless compliments and fake empathy
Until one day I found out who he really was
a liar ,a psychopath
and I called him out and blocked him
from my universe when he said he didn’t do no wrong
when he said, he just liked his “privacy”
and offered no apologies after a decade long lie
which added to my trust issues
but at least it opened my eyes
enough to kick him out of my life
and while I still make poetry out of him
(he gave me too much material to ignore)
I’m grateful he’s out of my life
life is too short for entitled Brads, Chads,and Kens
who think that just because of their privilege
they can get away with ANYTHING
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
bomb of rage detonated and set off
the angry woman takes over
I watch
as she villainizes, demonizes
She can’t be stopped
She burns bridges and laughs
about it
I hate her, I wish she didn’t exist
she’s my shadow, my anger
who’s built to protect me
to grant me power
when I feel powerless
she’s a part of me
who can’t be suppressed or ignored
I learn to love her, give her attention
she craves
and in due time
introspection and therapy happens
and she’s finally integrated into me
and she becomes my super power
Me and her
we’re a force of nature
not to be fucked with
this poem is inspired by the 2006 poem, “poem for a couple I never knew”
many took bets on how long they’d last
between the age gap, the difference in cultures
they didn’t stand a chance
yet, they kind of made it work for more than a decade
yet, they still raised three fine young men for almost 20 years
and while their incompatibility caught up to them
and they had to end their love story
they rebuilt it on the foundation
of the love they once shared
and in the best interest of their children
and evolved into a healthy story of friendship
where any resentment and anger has been buried
and there are no hard feelings over past grievances
where they support one another
and are finally the parents their children
always deserved
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
it’s the wild wild west inside my head
it’s where my demons decide to come out to play
they dance with traumatic memories
making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface
it’s the wild wild west inside my head
being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic
scaring away any potential love candidates
it’s been a long time since I held someone’s hand
much less been in someone’s bed
It’s the wild wild went inside my head
And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave
so maybe one day I’m not so jaded
so maybe one day I give someone the chance
to take me out on a date
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
love ties me up and binds with a rope of shame
slowly I fade away until I’m nothing
I don’t recognize who I am
Friends tell me I’ve changed
I tell them they’re crazy
messages appear in dreams
I’m living a fake life
who am i? who am i? who am i?
this poem was inspired by this silly poem from 2006 called, “A poetic tale”.
it was another boring night at work
I was stuck on aisle 10 between stocking
and my racing thoughts
a 90s dance song comes on the speaker
and just when I’m about to sing
I heard footsteps behind me
I turned around and there he was-
my favorite customer
5’10 ,curly black hair, full red lips
and a body built by some Greek God
he was looking at pots and pans
I quickly turned my back to stock the tupperware
and sneaked glances and admired him from afar
hoped he didn’t notice me in my Kroger garb
I looked like too much of hot mess to flirt
but still my dead and jaded heart was resuscitated
and my imagination took flight
as fantasies of him surfaced to my mind
and just as I’m imagined our first kiss
he approached me, -OH NO!
of course he asked for a specific type of pan
we didn’t have
I told him no and apologized
in my best customer service voice
and he told me “no worries”
as his voice cracked and walked away quickly
and I wondered, am I imagining things,
or is he also attracted to me?
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
while I’ve been obsessed with everything that has gone wrong with my life
I’m learning to finally acknowledge everything that went right
always been blessed to have a community of friends
who loved and accept me as the crazy and creative mess that I have always been
for that I am most grateful to the universe
the ultimate gift of friendship
this poem is an updated version from the 2006 poem, “she flew”
she’s gone to the other side
leaving us in a state of mourning
no tears, no words soften the emotional blow
can’t take back how we took her for granted
and now anger, regret, and remorse
becomes who we are
until we accept the passage of time
is our biggest ally in healing from her absence
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
In bridging the gaps of my story that have remained unresolved
every story, every poem leads to pieces of healing and closure
I’ve been desperately search for since I can remember
Whatever my child self , my teenage self couldn’t voice back then
My middle age self brings to the surface
and while at times it’s difficult and terrifying
it’s needed in the process of healing and evolving
this is an updated version of the 2006 poem, “nachos and cheese”
nachos and cheese makes my tummy oh so happy
satisfies my craving for something salty
my taste buds are greatly aroused
as the cheese melts in my mouth
and I grow dizzy with glee
becoming a victim to my gluttony
my taste buds grow greedy for more
even my blood pressure soars
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
we gather here tonight
to share the most vulnerable parts of ourselves
through poems written on a whim, in cars,
inspired by dreams and tragedies
and everything in between
some of it will be meaningful
some of it will be nonsense
most of the time, it will be someone
trying to make sense of the world
with a few phrases and sentences
clumsily strung together
and calling it poetry
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
You must be a magician
because you make me feel things
I’ve shut the door to,
you make me want to write
the most terrible and cringy poems
about love
you must be a magician
because I can’t stop thinking
about you
because even though I said never again
here I am obsessing over another man
this poem is inspired by the 2006, “let’s go to your store”
take me on a tour of your utopia
the one you always talk about
the one where mental illness doesn’t exist
and we all go to sleep without the need
of meds and sleepytime tea
the one where everyone is respected
and being different is celebrated
and not used as fodder for insults or war
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
you donate to endless non profits, sit on boards of organizations
that want to bridge communities together,
you volunteer at the soup kitchen or as a mentor
for underprivileged at risk kids
you share your stories of trauma
and you do all of this telling yourself
I want to help others
I want to be a healing light
this cesspool of a world desperately needs
and despite dozens of explanations
I’ll ask you
are you doing it to help others
or are you doing it to fuel your ego?
are you doing out of the purest of intentions
to make a difference
or to make yourself feel better
about your mediocre first world privilege existence?
Life on the BPD 