here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: It Hurts
quisiera matar las mariposas que siento dentro de mi
porque los cuentos de amor siempre acaban en tragedia para mi-
pero ya es demasiado tarde
no puedo dejar en pensar en ti
no puedo parar lo que siento por ti
I wrote this poem in October 2022.
Maybe I need a new love story-even if it’s temporary
so I can find relief and some peace from this loneliness
That’s making me into an insane mess
Maybe losing myself in someone else
Will stop making me feel less-
or perhaps what’s really happening
It’s me allowing my depression talk me into finding a solution-
for my neverending frustration with healing and growth
and always having to look within for what I need
But perhaps if I had somebody maybe for once, I could just be
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Sponge
trato y trato aceptar esta última tragedia
entender que fue algo necesario para mi crecimiento y progreso
entender que será algo que el futuro no tendrá tanta importancia
pero por ahora soy una bola de odio y furia
lista para gritar todo sobre la traición que he sufrido
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: El Pasado
a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16-
as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love
as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off-
regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach
and I want to vomit
Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe
and I’m transported back to my present
I’m safe again in my body-
as I come to accept and love
the immature and impulsive girl I once was
who carelessly gave herself to others
who never thought about the consequences
and took risks
she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be-
she was just in a rush to live her life
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The transformation is complete
from caterpillar and butterfly
It was full of painful epiphanies that brought an epic catharsis
It was life changing and transcendental
Facing my fears, driving out the toxicity within
Acknowledging brutal truths, letting go of regrets
and embracing my divine duality
I’ve finally become the butterfly I was always meant to be
who flies and lands on her own terms
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
the nostalgia of Lima sets in
and I ache for the sights, sounds, and warmth
of my homeland-
even though it’s been a few days
I want to go back already
I don’t feel myself fully in American
my body’s here but my spirit was left in lima
maybe because the few memories I have of Lima
are happy and mostly pure from trauma
whereas in America
it’s been tragedy after tragedy
disappointment after disappointment
and while I’ve planted my roots here with my children
my spirit now resides somewhere in Lima
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
Poesia: Quisiera Ser
let’s forget our past love stories
and focus on the one we’re living
the one we’re still writing
let’s agree that anyone before you,
anyone before me
were just practice for the honest and magical
love we’re experiencing
let’s focus on our present
and start planning our future
that’s waiting to be lived
that’s waiting to be written
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
My son holds the universe in his eyes
with his potential, with his sense of wonder
his eyes are not yet jaded by the inhumanity of this world
and I dread when the day comes
as his innocence starts to fade
