Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Pretending
¿Te haces el idiota o en serio estas ciego?
regresando a mi vida con un aire de indiferencia
como que aqui no paso nada
como que no me jodiste la vida
y te atreves a extenderme tu mano
como si fuéramos amigos
como si el tiempo mi hiciera olvidar el infierno de tu abandono
y como me dejaste solita para enfrentar las consecuencias
de nuestra irresponsabilidad
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The cure for a broken soul is finding love and validation
within yourself
It’s finding beauty in the ordinary
It’s finding joy in the mundane moments of life
The cure for a broken soul is finding faith and hope
in the most trying of times
and accepting the darkness within you is temporary
and not everything deserves your energy
The cure for a broken soul is acceptance and love
from the universe, the source and God
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Maybe One Day
Quizás tu no eres el hombre para mi
pero a lo mejor eres un vistazo de amor anticipado-
un amor que sepa manejarme sin controlarme
un amor que sepa apreciarme sin idolatrándome
un amor que sepa amarme sin mentiras
un amor de verdad
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m making amends with lovers and friends who’ve hurt me
holding this much resentment in feels heavy
And I’m tired of being a slave to past grudges
it feels like an eternal emotional blockage
So I’m filled with empathy and forgiveness
For those who’ve made me feel worthless
Because enough is really enough
and I’m tired of being fueled by hate
I wanna now be fueled by love
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Fucking Waste
contigo aprendà que los diablos se disfrazan de santos
con tus supuestas buenas intenciones y tu cariño
me sentÃa tan segura que baje mi armadura
y abrà la puerta de mi corazón
pero después de unos meses vi que denuevo me equivoque
y me encontré otra vez con mi corazón en mil pedazos
¿Será mi mala suerte?
¿O será mi destino quedarme sola?
I believe in God
because despite of all of my tragedies
despite all of my sadness and despair
despite all of the times I almost gave up
God found me with their faith, with their warmth
God filled me with a new confidence and
with love for myself
and with a sense of purpose I never had before
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The volcano that lived inside of me
is ready to erupt and about to ruin everything
my explosive anger cannot be reigned in
this intensity is a consequence of my BPD
and it will cause my lover to flee
the lava of me will make him wary
and once again, I’m left
in the desolate land of lonely
wishing away the volcano inside of me
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Wrong
me arrepiento, me arrepiento, me arrepiento
de la aventura que tuvimos anoche
fue un error, fue un error, fue un error
pero algo me dice que fue destino
descubrir de nuevo un amor alguna vez perdido
Here is the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Reclaiming Myself
cuando me abandonaste la primera vez
querÃa acabar con mi vida,pensaba que no valÃa nada
y casi me tire del puente pero un susurro de fe me detuvo
y ahora vienes con disculpas y buenas intenciones
querias pagar las deudas de tu conciencia
pero querido, ya es demasiado tarde
esta vez no me vas a convencer
porque ahora soy un mujer valiente y astuta
que nunca más creerá en tu palabras bonitas y falsas
que ya no es un cordera apta para que tu las mates
What notable things happened today?
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I warn potential lovers about me
about how crazy I can be
about how I fall in love easily
but they never seem to listen
and fill me up with adoration
and don’t proceed with caution
Instead I’m placed on a pedestal
Where they professed their love
That’s when I feel the pressure
of being everything they want
So they think I’m really the one
and their love will last long
but eventually I break down
in my emotions I start to drown
They’ll say, I thought you were healed
You’re so damn crazy
They see me as an atrocity
And once again I’m tragically crushed
By another temporary and fickle love
Who can’t handle me at my worst
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
Poesia: Tardes Remordimientos
remorse and guilt eat him up inside
thinking of everything that could have been
the family he could have had
if only he hadn’t allowed his fear and pride
control him and make him choose safety
over an unknown destiny he still wonders about
I wrote this poem in January of this year
My lack of worth of self-esteem allowed me to accept
not even the bare minimum from lovers
as long as they showed any interest in me,
any sign of wanting me, I’d give them my energy
made them the muse of my poetry
put them on a pedestal where I worshiped them like a deity
and made what I mistook for love my religion
thought each one was the one because of my inability to find self-love
it was the version of me who thought the world began and ended
with the love of a man
It was the version of me who didn’t know that alone
I had always been whole, I had always been enough
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
My therapist said my diagnosis makes it hard to sustain relationships
and I believe it wholeheartedly
because my love data shows me many times
anything involving love and lust crashes and burns
because my romantic history is full of unhealthy and toxic patterns
so now I avoid anything resembling feelings of intimacy
I value my emotional stability too much
to once again lose my sanity to another love that’s temporary
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Why Insist?
Pero, porque insistes en algo que nunca será
y querer arruinar nuestra amistad
estas perdiendo tu tiempo halagandome
tratando de conquistarme
porque siempre te considere un amigo, un hermano
tratando de ser algo más serÃa una falta de respeto
a la relación dulce y pura que tenemos
