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
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
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
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
I wrote this poem in December of 2021. I was kind of angry. Lol.
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
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/10/arrancar/
to forget you would be a gift
from the universe
because holding space for you
in my memory
brings me great misery
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
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living
Have you ever broken the law and didn’t get caught, if so how?
What were your parents doing at your age?
At 41, my mother worked two jobs, raised 3 kids,
and still kept the spark in her marriage alive
I don’t know how she did it all without ever
breaking apart-
I don’t remember ever seeing her cry
but I do remember her temper, her anger
and being afraid of her sometimes
This was my response to prompt #26 : How has your life changed in the past year
2022 blessed me with more joy and growth than I could have dreamed of
I changed my narrative from a woman full of anger and resentment
to a woman full of contentment and an appreciation for everything
Unexpected and pleasant surprises filled up my year
swimming for the first time to Taylor Swift
music concerts that brought on catharsis
a spontaneous trip to my homeland where I found a stable sense of identity
and my accidental bangs in that beauty salon in Lima
I also learned to place my solitude as a priority for my recovery journey
It was the year when I stopped chasing love and unabashedly started
chasing my dreams, conquering my fears, and learning to love
the woman in the mirror
It’s been one of the best fucking years of my life
when I finally learned the meaning of gratitude and healthy love
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2021.
La navidad se escucha con los parchis
cantando navidad, navidad
navidad se ve como el árbol lleno de muchos adornos
coleccionados hace más de 30 años
el nacimiento cusqueño con las estatuas
de la virgen, josé y el bebe jesús cristo
que tienen más de 33 años
navidad se saborea con un polla peruano sazonado
con especies únicas
con un chocolate y panettone siempre en la mesa
navidad se siente con la felicidad pasando tiempo
con tus seres más queridos
que te llenan con amor y calor familiar
la navidad se huele en el perfume imari de Mami
La navidad siempre será una de las tradiciones
más bonitas e amorosas en mi familia
I wrote this in 2008 in my creative writing class. I actually hated that class because I didn’t fit in. It’s a long story for a blog post at a later time.
I don’t want to be
a style ,a genre
a multicultural read
with scattered Spanish
in my text
that is interpreted
as Chica or Latina lit
-NO!-
I refuse to be a mere category
Or a trend or a fad
When there is a much bigger message
Than the stereotypes
people want to imply
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=4784
Fue el destino cruel
hacerte cruzar la línea
Entre amor y odio
Fuistes una desperdicia de tiempo
Nunca sabras
lo bueno que pudimos ser
tu amor era solo una pantalla de humo
Hasta pensaba que teníamos
Para siempre
Quería creer que tu eras un amor verdadero
pero tu eras otro “lo que sea”
Y yo fui otra falda
No hay nada más que decir
es tiempo de olvidar todo lo que fuimos
o pudimos ser
For the English Version of this poem, click link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/19/poetry-i-thought/
Fuistes otro amor falso
otro lleno de perfidio
pretendiendo tener buenas intenciones
me causaste una desconfianza profunda
Espinas de odio crecieron en mi
aprendiendo que era otra falda más
fue una verdad difícil de tragar
Ahora gritaré todo mi miseria y rencor
Life on the BPD 