I wrote this poem in November of 2025.
Try to touch the ache of alienation with my pen
writing poems to find
a find a sense of belonging
a sense of community
something beyond the platter of nonsense reality serves
poetry: alienation
poetry: silly dream
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
when no one is watching I manifest a new lover-
I’m tired of solitude, I’m tired of crying from loneliness
so I dream about him, I write about him
and I pray that he appears
and while I tell myself it’s ok if he doesn’t exist
and it’s just one of my many silly dreams
secretly I want him to become a reality
I just want to know what it’s like for once
to be loved and accepted for the complicated
Woman that I am
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poetry: heart
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
until we meet again, Peru
i’ll hold you in my heart and dream about the warmth of my tia
and remember the taste of ceviche and carapulcra
and the smell of the busy city streets with too much traffic
America can never compare to your rich history or the warmth of your people
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poetry: roots
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
my roots are locked in a this land
that calls me an other, a forever foreigner
a land where I’ve never felt welcomed
and yet this is what I call home
this is where I went to school
this is where my children were born and raised
this is the only other place I’ve called home
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poetry: Found Poem-BPD Edition with Quora
I wrote this poem in October of 2022 with the help of Quora.
what do most people not understand about borderline personality disorder?
what are borderline psychopaths?
can you trust someone with borderline personality disorder?
can someone who has bpd have empathy and feel bad for what they have done?
does a borderline individual ever had a hard time getting over someone or
can they easily forget?
what is borderline personality rage?
what hurts a person with BPD?
why is borderline personality so contradictory?
do people with BPD act normal to everyone except the person they’re splitting on?
are people with BPD childlike ?
can unconditional love treat borderline disorder?
does a person with bpd make their partners go crazy?
how do borderlines show they love you?
do borderlines ever find happiness, hope or a genuine connection?
what does a bpd episode look like?
should someone with BPD ever disclose that to a potential mate?
when do relationships with PwBpd start to fall apart?
are borderline psychotic?
can borderline disorder be cured?
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poetry: breeze
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
the breeze kissed my face in Lima as we drove past the ocean
and I was enchanted I was in love
with the place I was born in
with the place of my ancestors
my Peru is beautiful and magnificent
with a rich history of a people who have been conquered,
of a people who have endured –
of a proud people who carry their patriotism in their hearts and bones
and the best part-I get to call this place home
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poetry: manifesting
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
drove towards the moon, full of uncertainty and ambiguity
Wondering what’s next for me, tired of being the foundation
tired of acting like I don’t crash out
Drove towards the moon full of uncertainty and ambiguity
trying to manifest something softer and calmer for myself
where I’m not fighting for survival
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poetry: that extra shift
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I don’t want to work that extra shift but my discover statement
tells me otherwise-
it tells me that once again I’m falling into a world of debt-
for daring to live a life above my means, above my class
and if I’m not careful I can slip back into poverty status
so I’ll work that extra shift and stop trying to live
a higher class life that’s not meant for me yet-
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poetry: horizon
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
I sigh at the horizon in front of me as L.A is under siege again
and this time they’ve declared a state of emergency
I want to avoid the news, turn off my phone for a few days,
lock myself away in a cabin with my boyfriend
somewhere in the appalachian mountains
where I can forget the rest of the world
But I can’t, I can’t, I can’t
I wasn’t raised to look away in the face of injustice
or when the safety of my loved ones are compromised
instead I remain hypervigilant
Always on alert of this administration’s next dickhead move
hoping it’s enough to keep my loved ones protected
from chaos and destruction
hoping one day this madness will end
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Poetry: In Lima
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
in Lima, people sing out loud at the table, in the car
they don’t carry the shame and embarrassment of Americans
they show their happiness, sadness, anger and all of their emotions out loud
unafraid to be cast as emotional and dramatic
they wear badges of passion, grief, anger and love on a prominent place
without caring about what the judgment of others and it’s fucking beautiful
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poetry: black cat
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
Black cat in the middle of the road in mid october
it’s almost halloween and almost a year since I lost contact with you
Black cat in the middle of the road in mid october
Laufey’s too little, too late plays on repeat
A sense of guilt hits me wondering what we could have been
Black cat in the middle of the road in mid october
my boyfriend told me I’m wife material
I’ve resigned myself to the fact there never will be an us
Black cat in the middle of the road in mid october
Time and luck never was on our side
No matter how hard both of us tried
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poetry: midnight
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
let’s take a midnight flight to Tokyo and get lost in Japan
like that Shawn Mendes song
let’s eat great sushi if there is such a thing
and pretend we’re 15 again
and so free spirited and carefree
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poetry: autumn 2025
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
as the leaves turn crisp, I find myself reminiscent of the many women I’ve been
excited for the version of me that’s to come
understanding I was always right
to continue on and trust the process
understanding this heroine’s journey of mine
was indeed worth it
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poetry: digging
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
I dig and dig from the skeletal remains of my family’s lore to make art out of it
to pay tribute to my ancestors and my family hates me for it
because no one is sanctified or worshipped in my stories
everyone is shown as who they’ve been
flawed individuals with mistakes made
with self induced tragedies, with victims
and generational curses left and passed down to us
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poetry: simpler times
I wrote this poem in October of 2025.
compasses, faded maps, stereos, VCRS, corded phones
all relics of another era
when we weren’t one click away from seeking validation
from our peers or the news trying to break us with each headline
simpler times when we could ignore
what was happening around us
