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Poetry: Overturning Roe vs Wade

I wrote this in May of 2022.

facts

Overturning my right to choose feels like a slap to my face
it is my american dream of liberty turned into a nightmare
of reproductive imprisonment
because of my 3 unplanned pregnancies, because of my 4 IUDs
birth control pills and a patch
because I am a woman scared for my niece, for my future granddaughters
scared for the generations of women who come after me
and I sit here at a complete loss for words and understanding
at a loss for how this could happen
a fundamental right ripped from right before our eyes
while we were distracted with the modernity of society
a fundamental right ripped from us that will take us back to the 1950’s

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Poetry: Golden Light

Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Month! I wrote this poem inspired by my favorite Asian American, my oldest son.

me and my oldest in 1999

I was young and so stupid
a kid having another kid
but with you I grew up
and learned the meaning of love
you’re everything a mother could want
a wonderful and amazing son
and while I’ll feel some grief
the day you’ll your spread wings
I’ll feel a special kind of pride
as I watch you shine your golden light

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Poetry: Where is my Dinero?

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

for real

I wonder where all of my money goes
but then I go home to the bottomless pits
that are my kids
and then I go upstairs to my bedroom
where my closet is exploding with clothes
and then I look under bed full of shoes
and then I go downstairs to my record player
and looks at my various vinyls
and we won’t even talk about my newly
acquired furniture from Amazon
now I understand
my money goes to my busy life
and my BPD spending impulsivity

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Poetry: Capitalism

Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed

Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves

New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?

Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say

Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream

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Poetry: Left Behind

Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/02/poesia-la-mujer-de-hoy/

your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me
left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you
left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you
left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world
the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn
the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms
without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down
the woman you left behind no longer exists
she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen
who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves
only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is

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 Poesia: La chica de tus sueños

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/22/so-much/

el miedo de compartir todo demasiado pronto corre por mi
entonces me hago la chica de tus sueños
la que se viste sexy y se ríe de todas tus bromas
la que da su cuerpo fácilmente sin preguntas o demandas
la que no exige respeto por miedo
de vivir el cuento de mujer dejada de nuevo

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Poesia: Indiferencia

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/26/poetry-indifference/

vivimos en un mundo de indiferencia
pero continuamos fingiendo que nos amamos
cuando en realidad todavía no me olvidado de él
y tu todavia piensas en ella
pero los dos tenemos miedo a la soledad
por eso seguimos juntos en una existencia de falsedad

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Poetry: Do I have to hide?

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I hide the craziest parts of myself
The parts that get sad,
The parts that get obsessed
The parts that lose hope
I hide the worst parts of myself
the parts that feel empty
The parts that feel numb
The parts that want to die
I hide the craziest and worst parts
of myself
so no one else will leave

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Poesia: Borracha

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/20/poetry-drunk/

borracha, me encontré en una cama extraña
desnuda y vulnerable
tratando de olvidar el pésimo dolor en mi corazón
cubriendome con el calor de un hombre desconocido
cedí a mis deseos salvajes para llenar el vacío
que llevaba dentro de mí

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Storytelling

What activities do you lose yourself in?

There are so many stories within me aching to get out
every single one wants to be a priority
but which one do I pick first
most are dramatic, some are angry and sad,
a few are happy and lovely
every story is important in a life
full of chaos and trauma
I don’t know why I attract so much drama
So I’m going to tell each story
Because I own everything that’s happened to me
Because I’m finally taking myself seriously

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Poetry: State of Modern Womanhood

I wrote this poem in December of 2021. I was kind of angry. Lol.

performing this poem at open mic in October of 2022

Let’s hashtag the fuck out of our imperfect perfect lives
smile for the camera but make it look candid
this is for instagram after all-
we want to present an image of authenticity
Authentic needs to look put together and balanced
there can be no cracks in our suburban realities
no one wants to see tears and frowns
let’s continue to act like modern clowns
except our lipsticks presents a false smile
that hides our misery inside and let’s add a witty caption
that spells out live,laugh, love
and hashtags about #momlife,#gratitude, and #bestlifeever
depression, sadness, and anger has no room in our modern world
where we pretend to be perfectly imperfect moms and wives
with these amazing and perfect lives
let’s continue the facade of authenticity
even as we burn inside and want to die
we are not just okay but we are fucking fabulous
so honey continue to smile for that selfie
even as the expectations of modern womanhood
continues to burn us all up

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Poesia: Miseria Toxica

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/03/poetry-tired-2/

Mis amigas son mi peor enemigas
Sacando a la luz todas mis inseguridades
y siento ansiedad que me trae insomnia
pensando si ellas tienen la razón
seré en realidad una mujer suela?
seré en realidad una madre negligente?
seré en realidad una estupida,
por querer superarme?
y me convenzo que nunca
seré suficiente para lo que se
espera de mi
y me siento deprimida
con esta realización
y me quedo dormida
con un corazón lleno
de miseria toxica

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The Work Blues

I’ve made taking selfies at work part of my routine at work
I bring style, beauty, and entertainment to my job-they’re lucky to have me

Do you enjoy your job?

It’s a moody Monday full of dread and adult angst
but to work I go even though I don’t want to
I’m rather stay home creating new worlds
that bleed from my mind
in my sweats and sans bra
but bills need to be paid
so I put on appropriate attire to face
my Monday to Friday hostage situation
put on my customer service voice I’ve perfected
and turn on my fake positivity
all because my passion doesn’t pay the bills yet
but it’s okay, i say to myself
because this hostage situation
is temporary

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Poetry: My Three Kings

me and my 3 kings

Who are your favorite people to be around?

I met my first king at 17
when the nurse placed an alien like being in my arms
She was like “feed him”and I was like “how do I do that?”
What should I do with him?
Eventually I figured it out

I met my first king at 24
as a birthday present, just like me
he had to make a dramatic entrance
but it was love at first sight
No one could take him from my arms
I knew what to do

I met my third king at 30
He was a dream delivered
After a dream lost the previous year
He was planned, he was awaited, he was loved
He was welcome by everyone
with him, I felt a completion of love