escribí este poema en diciembre del 2024.
magneto y locomía sale de la tele
mi tío me llamaba su condesita y mi tía me llamaba linda
y me río porque últimamente me siento como una extraña en mi cuerpo
y mami y sus hermanas me dicen que me estoy volviendo una señorita
pero lo único que veo es un monstruo fea y gorda en el espejo
y quisiera ser delgadita y fina como mis primas
pero por lo menos mi tío y mi tía no me miran así
me miran como un tesoro bello y valioso
I wrote this poem in December of 2021
I met him outside on a hot July night
he was everything I was not looking for
but it was a devastatingly short fall
and then I was lost in him
and everything I wanted him to be
It wasn’t fair to him or I
expectations that were sky high
with him I wanted everything
but he wasn’t ready to be my love king
Perhaps he was just a preview
for a future love dream come true
I wrote this poem in December of 2020.
The words, the phrases, the sentences seep from me
when I think of you, my muse
Words of hate, words of love,
Words of devastation, words of lust
You inspire everything that is great,
You inspire everything that I hate
Spilled phrases about my desire for you
and my disgust for you fills pages of my journal
I hate him, I love him, I can’t live without him
Phrases that bleed from my our toxic love af
I wrote this poem in December of 2019.
I see your face in my mind
and all I feel is your regret
for the time wasted on you
Regret
for sharing my vulnerability with you
Regret
For the tears that you never deserved
Regret
For the energy I put into us
Regret
That I ignored your red flags
Regret
For the fucks I can’t take back
Regret
For memories I can’t erase
Regret
For wasting my love
on a waste of space human being
below is the Spanish Translation
new America
are we going in time with our lack of rights
with prejudices more overt-
this is suppose to be a first world country
and yet no one is safe
sending my child to school
i pray he’ll come back in one piece
going to work
I hope a mentally ill or disgruntled employee
doesn’t walk in with revenge in his mind
and a gun in his hand
and i’m even afraid of sex
birth control isn’t fool proof
and I’d be forced to carry an oops
are we going to back in time
or is this the new America?
apathetic voter
full of apathy-i no longer have the faith and hope in government I once had
i’m starting to think that renouncing my homeland was a waste to become an American
thinking my vote counted for something, that it meant something
aside from the ease of traveling
my situation is still the same
a working class reality where I’m still struggling
a high functioning mental case doing her best to survive
in a country that thrives on capitalism
polls
must I go to the polls and vote?
everyone tells me I must
to maintain my rights and for my future
but lately I feel apathetic about it all-
feeling I’ve never made a difference
feeling like it’s so much bullshit
but since I’ve heard Nazi sympathizers are in this race
and I’m an other
I”m forced to go to the stupid polls
for mine and my loved ones survival
these poems are from 2022 and I’m more disillusioned than ever with the government. I’ve always leaned towards being a liberal/democrat and while I’ll still go out there and vote for whatever is deemed the “lesser evil”, I absolutely hate that we don’t have a third option that’s way more humane. And for anyone who thinks, “well, you should go back to your country”, at this point, I am working on having that as an option in the near future. Going back to Peru last year and this year has given me a new perspective about everything my parents gave up to immigrate to this country and it’s overwhelming because it was a lot. While I understand their reasons and while Peru does not have the most stable government either, the quality of life there seems better in a lot of ways. Who knows what will happen next year with the elections but I’m making sure my kids have their passports and I keep my connections with family and friends in Peru.
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
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I want to be just like you, so confident, so carefree
you never allow responsibility guilt you or bring you down
So I mirrored and mirrored you leaving my old self behind
wanting to free myself from the chains off my husband and kids
I wanna be fun, I wanna be sexy
let me fuck whoever I want
and I try but it never makes me happy
it was like jumping continuously on a trampoline of self destruction
sabotaging my chances at happiness, at success
at true self awareness
and one day the trampoline broke along with me
and I picked up my broken pieces
Dismissed the distractions and my need for validation
and I learned not to mirror you or anyone else
I finally found comfort and love in my own skin
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
when someone blocks me, I wonder what was the last straw
was is some irreverent post I posted
some salty poem on my blog that offended them
something stupid I said
most of the time I simply let it go and understand
I’m not for everyone but when it’s someone
I considered a friend, I’m stumped
because I thought friends were supposed to talk
things out when conflict occurs
I thought friends were supposed to give each other
Space when they screw up
But I guess in this instance, I must have done something
so unforgivable, so horrible, I didn’t deserve a warning
Before being blocked
And now there’s nothing I can do
I have to accept this was just a season of friendship
and move on
I’ll never know what I did wrong
and he’ll never know how he wrecked me
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
you look lost in your thoughts
is there something wrong, something I did-
what’s on your mind that makes you silent and sad
tell me what’s going on-
so I can help lessen your burden
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
A giant pink bow comes apart and disintegrates
and my female ancestors and all of the women
on my timeline cry
tears of rage, tears of grief
we know it’s the beginning of the end
on this gloomy november day
Soon we’ll be relegated to second class citizens
soon some of us will immigrate to other countries
so we don’t end up like handmaidens
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
it’s election day and I feel numb and empty
I doubt my vote made a difference
in my swing state
but at least I made my voice heard
for the lesser evil
With cherry chapstick, I felt like a woman
I felt like a sexy vixen from the telenovelas
even though I was only 9-
and while everyone around me still treated me
like a little girl-
after applying my cherry chapstick
something awakened inside of me
Was it the beginning of puberty?
10/2/22
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
Trauma after trauma
I have withstood
Standing up right away and pretending
everything was fine
There was no time
for tears or processing
of feelings
That was a luxury for
the white upper class
Therapy-pssst
No time or money for
that either –
It’s gringo concept
Self care – that’s only
for the rich
No, you’re a latina Woman
our people rely on grit
and resilience
There is no time for white pendejadas
No, you’re a latina woman –
you only need the strength
from your ancestors
to survive this life
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
The rain falls steadily in Autumn
and I remember the 9 days in the summer
When the tears wouldn’t quit raining from my eyes
The eternal emotional pain wouldn’t stop
the lonely nights I couldn’t sleep
the infinite anger and sadness that I felt
the emptiness that wouldn’t
go away
the food I couldn’t eat.
And yet I still woke up
every day with a determination to live
live for my kids
live for my friends
live for myself
even at my worst,
even at my most vulnerable
Somehow, I managed
managed to find strength
managed to find inspiration
and somehow managed to
find my way back to myself
Summer was the season
I died when I was
rejected by the one who
claimed to love me
Autumn is the season I was reborn
and I fell back in love
with myself, forgot him
and fell into the magic
that is me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
you’re fumbling me bad and you should be ashamed
I figured you learned your lesson by now
but maybe this one’s on me for letting you near me
Silly, Patty
even at 43, I can’t get the hint
that men only want me for one thing
