I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
With my last rock bottom, I learned many things
I learned about the power of my strength and resilience
I learned how to be truly alone
I learned about self-love and how to feel enough
And I learned how maybe love isn’t for me
and all of these things were hard for me to learn
But after my last rock bottom
I came out a different person
A person who understands herself better
A person who stopped apologizing for who she is and is no longer afraid to be herself
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
maybe in another universe, another lifetime
we would have been right for each other
we could have been twin flames
but in this universe, in this lifetime
we were just lessons learned
some karmic debt we both needed to pay
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
in the dark corners of the earth the karma gods get together with their hit list
they scheme and plan lessons of devastation,
destruction, and death to teach someone a lesson
about poetic justice
I wrote this in May of 2022.
What’s the cost of being authentically me?
not everyone will like me, lovers will run away from me
I have a hard time finding someone who accepts me
but it’s fine, it’s okay
my worth means more to me than anyone
who wants me to swallow parts of myself
to accommodate to them
because my self-esteem means more than acting
like someone else’s dream
so maybe the cost of being truly me is low
compared to the parts of my true self
I would lose for false friendships and false loves
aqui esta versión en Español:
poesía: loba
I’m a lone brunette wolf in a world full of blonde sheep
my exes always preferred blondes over me
I never knew exactly why
perhaps blondes really do have more fun
perhaps blondes are easier to manipulate
this used to bother me greatly,
even robbed me of my sanity and sleep
but eventually I had a great epiphany
the one meant for me will not just love how sweet I can be
He’ll also love and encourage the savage in me
he’ll know how to ride the turbulent waves of my mood swings
I’m not sure if I’ll meet him soon or if he even exists
but after this grand epiphany
I no longer care about my exes and their blonde sheep
In fact, I wish them all the best fairytale ending
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
the end of the fiscal year brings out the worst in me
it crushes my soul and creativity
and makes me want to run into the woods and go feral
but my kids need food and shelter
so I put all of my distress tolerance skills to use
and my try my best to emotionally regulate my anger
and the fire that burns inside of me
hide behind phrases “okay, I’ll get that done”
“no worries” and “it’s no problem at all”
when I want to tell everyone to fuck your purchase orders
and spreadsheets
but sigh-I like my nice car
and Alexa playing Olivia Rodrigo in the morning
so I hold everything in
because I desperately need this paycheck
it sucks to be held hostage by capitalism
here’s the English version of this poem:
poetry: dreams and goals
nos encarcelamos en monotonía y rutina
Convirtiéndonos victimas de nuestras vidas sin sueños y metas
pensando que nuestros mejores años han pasado
hundiendonos en el falso cuento que la sociedad
nos viendo que nuevas aventuras son solo
nuestros días de juventud
I wrote this in January of 2022.
Stuck in between Spanish and English
is a bilingual nightmare
constantly switching between languages
gives me a lifelong jaqueca
and at times I don’t get it right
it’s switching between two identities
Latina or American
it gets hard and confusing at times
but it’s who I am
Hablo con mamá en Español
I speak to my sons in English
Hablo con los pacientes en Español
I speak to my coworkers in English
and to code switch parece una comedia
I’m told that I’m fun and loud en Español
pero soy profesional y reservada in English
eventually I learn to meld
my American and Latina personalities
and I find my most authentic
bilingual and bicultural identity
I wrote this poem in april of 2023.
my poetry has never been to get attention, likes, comments, validation
and while I appreciate all those things
I have to be honest –
my poetry is and will always be for me to speak my truth,
to process my feelings, to heal from life’s tragedies
to understand myself and learn to love myself as I am
my poetry is the ultimate love letter to myself and the universe
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
Dear future heartbroken me,
Sometimes it won’t be you or even him
Sometimes things don’t work out
It’s nothing to be obsessed about
Sometimes love isn’t enough
It doesn’t mean you’re not enough
Sometimes things end abruptly
and it’s not the end of your story
and sometimes you learn from it
And most of the time
it will serve to change your narrative
I wrote this poem in april of 2023.
I put my insecurities and fears on display for the world to see
it’s a most arduous task-it’s not for the weak
at first I thought it was crazy
it was me trying to get attention
it was me seeking validation
and while it may have been these things
it was also brave, courageous
to be so radically honest
about what unnerves me
It’s how I’ve been able to heal
and claim my identity
I wrote this poem in april of 2023.
a red bird appeared to me in a dream
it carried the spirit of an ancestor I had never known
he told me to not get too comfortable in my current life
while it’s been a good life and I keep thriving
and making my dreams come true
I have even more room for improvement
my purpose is bigger than I’ve ever dreamed of
and through my storytelling
I will not just heal myself but help others
find their own path in their hero’s journey
Life on the BPD 