I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
hold onto hope, don’t let go
one day you’ll laugh about this
one day you’ll be okay
hold onto hope, don’t let go
Remember all of the times
you’ve been strong
Remember all of the times
you put one foot in front of the other
hold onto hope, don’t let go
your story is still being written
you’re still in time to change
your narrative
escribí este poema en Junio del 2024.
quizás es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que te olvides de mi
que pares de insistir en resucitar
nuestro cuento de amor
porque siempre vamos a querer
cosas diferentes
tu quieres una conexión superficial
lleno de noches apasionadas
y sabanas mojadas
mientras que yo deseo algo
profundo y puro
una conexión sólida
que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar
quizás es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que ya no me busques
porque por mas que yo quisiera
mi corazón no se deja ablandar
para ti por mas que lo intente
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
lately I hate everything I have written
Sometimes I get the urge to burn
Or delete everything
but something tells me
this is how I know I’m growing
I’m evolving in my craft
I’m used to being a doormat
always allowing people’s energy to pollute
my life and take up my time
it’s the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn
be easy to get along with with,always avoiding conflict,
become the person they want me to be, always easy to digest and swallow
cutting away pieces of my authenticity-
never valuing myself or putting myself first
It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family
Internalized misogyny sold to me at young age
dressed up as selfless acts of love
but I’m done sacrificing myself for others
It’s time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being
I refuse to passed this down to the next generation
of woman who come after me
I’m here to take up space, roar like a lioness
and passed down a new legacy of self love
that took me 41 years to learn
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me
but I’m starting to think he doesn’t exist
I swipe and swipe on the dating apps
but no one is of interest to me
and so I find solace in an unrequited love
that will never be more than friendship
it’s the best I can do to quell the romantic in me
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
my body feels like a rundown shack
that’s crumbling down slowly
I can’t get up in the morning
without my knee or hip
bitching and moaning
without me groaning in pain
and mumbling to myself
“Omg, another stupid day”
and cursing my genetics
that make me watch everything
I eat
and again I wonder
am I paying a karmic debt
for my colonizer ancestors
escribi este poema en Junio del 2024.
la verdad es que no se si verdaderamente he estado enamorada
no se si alguna vez he sido amada
es una verdad dura y terrible que me tengo tragar
He lies in the scent
Of our lovemaking
On love stained sheets
From “us”
He lies with an
Angelic look on his face
With a recently delivered
Afterglow of new love
He lies in the freshly made world of intimacy
We have just created
He lies with eyes shut
And heavenly blood red lips
That call me baby
And I get ready to leave
With dreadful
Back to the reality
That doesn’t include
My Adonis
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
you’ve change from spring to autumn within moments
never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve
never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism
I’ve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble
than it was worth
always viewing things in extremes
always making devils and angels out of people
who are really just mortals
my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse
or my biggest blessing depending on the season,
the weather or the day
I search for peace and tranquility but it evades me
sometimes I find it but it quickly dissipates
Feeling so much all of the time gets exasperating
I yearn for a vacation from this intensity
I’m starting to think this is my destiny
To fall in love hard and feel heartbreak even harder
To write a few poems when I’m in love
To write a hundred poems when I face another love failure
maybe it’s best to truly accept me
a girl sometimes full of serenity
a girl always full of intensity
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
don’t know which way is up
don’t know which way is down
don’t know what is right
don’t know what is wrong
I want someone’s hand to hold but they reach for my breast
I want innocent kisses on the cheek
but they reach for the heaven between my thighs
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we can’t forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder what’s so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws
What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?
Privilege and Luxury
Luxury looks like the chauffeur
who drives me and my sister
to ballet classes
and my brother to karate
Privilege tastes like eating garlic cloves
in bed with my bunny
who wears a knitted hat
made by my Mami
Luxury smells like el amuerzo
of rice and over easy eggs
the maid serves us
Privilege sounds like a bomb
going off near our house
one of its residents
loses his hearing because of it
Luxury feels like my mami understanding
terrorism is at her front door
and applying for U.S sponsorship
through a relative
Privilege is having parents
who crossed the border
for us and with us
out of love and for our safety
Life on the BPD 