sometimes I wish you were here- so you could share your wisdom, so you could explain your truth I followed in your footsteps of being a teenage mom And it would have ripped me apart to have abandoned my son so I’m wondering how you did it- were you full of guilt or was it because of your lack of options how did you survive being away from your child and go on with your life as if he was an afterthought Perhaps I’m judging you harshly and I don’t understand the whole story I just want it to make sense
the sunset at el parque del amor makes me believe in love again it makes me believe I won’t always be holding on so tightly to my solitude it makes me believe that I could have another accomplice to share my life with
wordpress prompt:If you won two free plane tickets, where would you go?
maybe I’ll take him, Idk
I want someone to take to oxapampa so I can show him where part of my story started so he can watch the sun rise and the sun set on my family’s farmland so I can experience joy through his eyes for the first time as he observes the beauty of the land So I can watch his face when he takes a sip for the first time of the world class beer 7 vidas so we can take tourist pics at the plaza and the church were my dad was baptized in dance the night and awkwardly laugh at the cultural appropriation of the Cheyenne Club so right after we end up at the Hakuna Matata karaoke bar when I sing “Lover” to him off key as he sits in his chair and cringes in embarrassment and tells me I’m crazy and everyone stares at us so we could have breakfast with my tia with the eggs, chorizo, coffee, and milk coming from the family farm as we all awkwardly make small talk about our plans for the day I want someone to take to oxapampa to hug trees, go on hikes in the jungle, and make love in some little cabin but I’ll have to wait and wait until the universe sends someone worthy of going the magical land of oxapampa
I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I Do but I know what happens when I don’t my electric bill goes in the red a food stamp application is filled and filed for me and my family I start to lose sleep over the bills and the things my kids need and when I fall into dreamland dreams of soup kitchens, panhandling, and scarcity follow me and I end up in the land of poverty, insanity and hypervigilance where I beat myself up for not doing enough to give my kids the life they deserve and I regret my life choices that led me here especially the one where I chose a lazy baby daddy I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I do but I’ll continue to do so until my body shuts down who cares if my hip is broken and I hardly have any time to myself I’d rather work myself to the bone than to allow my family to fall again into being victims of poverty
la negación se asienta en mis entrañas pero lo disfrazó con una sonrisa y viajes al zoológico fingiendo que la felicidad doméstica es lo maximo mientras estoy temblando con rabia
It’s April again and it’s not only spring that is in bloom but also the creativity that goes along with it. And of course, it’s national Poetry month and every year since 2022 I try to participate in NaPoWrimo which is an activity where I write a poem a day and post it on my blog. I use prompts from this website for inspiration: https://www.napowrimo.net/ and as always I’m excited to see what crazy poems I come up with. Last year my favorite poem was a spicy one I wrote about Yung Gravy that I ended up performing at open mic.
my forever muse
Also, this year, I decided to give y’all my own original prompts to inspire y’all. Feel free to send me your poem and I’ll post it on my blog or you can just keep it in between the pages of your journal. I had a goal last year that I would post my own prompts for National Poetry Month and here we are. So here are prompts that I wrote sometime in early 2022. Here’s my contact info where you can email me or dm me your poem.
Es abril nuevamente y no solo florece la primavera, sino también la creatividad que la acompaña. Y, por supuesto, es el mes nacional de la poesía y todos los años desde 2022 intentó participar en NaPoWrimo, que es una actividad en la que escribo un poema al día y lo publico en mi blog. Estoy emocionado de ver qué poemas locos se me ocurren. El año pasado mi poema favorito fue uno picante que escribí sobre Yung Gravy y que terminé leyendo en frente del público . Además, este año, decidí darles mis propios temas originales para inspirarlos a escribir sus propios poemas. Si quieren pueden enviarme su poema y lo publicaré en mi blog o simplemente pueden guardarlo entre las páginas de su diario. El año pasado tenía como objetivo publicar mis propios mensajes para el Mes Nacional de la Poesía y aquí estamos. Este año decidí usar los títulos de los primeros 30 poemas que he escrito.
cuando tenía 15 años cuando escribí mi primer poema
I pay tribute to the women who came before me women who sacrificed so my parents could exist my mami who had to leave behind her culture, traditions, and language to give me a better life to make sure I grow up safe and well educated and taught me what strength and resilience means as she worked long days to make ends meet as she showed initiative to move our family forward and with her example I was able to follow it except I change it up some to live a life full of love, community and creativity
always restless and wild from the start nothing could contain me or dim my spark leg braces, overprotective parents it didn’t matter I always found a way to make trouble, to investigate, always too curious for my own good and too dramatic and emotional for mostly everyone always good at making people uncomfortable sometimes it’s a curse, sometimes it’s a blessing can’t change this part of myself I have, am and will always be like this
at 17, the pregnant bride to be got a telegram from her groom sorry, but I’m betrothed to another and am getting married at gun point maybe it was the heavy feeling of rage or her aries nature and hormones the jilted bride with a silent fury went to her closet and took out her ostentatiously beaded wedding dress and with matches in her hand she went outside and set fire to it in front of the family home one of the younger siblings saw the insanity as the bride stared at it mesmerized by fire that grew and grew she walked towards it all sense of reality gone from her not hearing the screams from her abuela who ran towards her and just before the bride step foot in the fire la abuela shook her and slapped her across the face until the bride reacted, let out a loud wail heard across the farmland and fainted
una ola de nostalgia me golpea y casi me ahogo en recuerdos y toma todo de mi para me quedé quieta en mi presente y toma todo de mi para que mi pasado no arruine la realidad que estoy viviendo
dejan su patria por una mejor vida por el bienestar de su familia nunca pensando en las consecuencias de esta decisión nunca pensando del sufrimiento que este paso puede causar y al empezar su nueva vida en américa se enfrentar con la dura y cruel realidad de ser inmigrante nunca siendo aceptados, siempre ser tratados como algo menos de ser humanos siempre teniendo que trabajas el doble, el triple para poder sobrevivir nunca dándose el lujo de parar para procesar sus sentimientos o lo que están viviendo hasta años después cuando todo el trauma que vivieron viene como un huracán en su mente, en su cuerpo que se adueña de ellos y no los quiere soltar
In bridging the gaps of my story that have remained unresolved every story, every poem leads to pieces of healing and closure I’ve been desperately search for since I can remember Whatever my child self , my teenage self couldn’t voice back then My middle age self brings to the surface and while at times it’s difficult and terrifying it’s needed in the process of healing and evolving
llévame a recorrido de tu utopía del cual tu siempre hablas el sitio donde no hay trastornos Mentales donde todos nos quedamos dormidos sin la necesidad de tranquilizantes el cual a todos se le tratan con respeto y son celebrados por ser diferentes y no son marginados o insultados
me in my luchadoras gear ready to go into my second job
I channel the luchadoras before me the ones who had to work in the chacras to provide for their families, the ones who had to work with their bare hands to build generational wealth the ones who survived infidelities, abuse, and tragedies and still came out on top as Queens the ones who never had the option to lay down and princess to be doted on, be taken care of they had to become working class luchadoras for the betterment of themselves and their families
Life on the BPD 