I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I never would change
I find you
I need you
Hey wake up
You can’t be here
poetry: blackout poem
poetry: hinge part 1
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
Downloaded hinge to become unhinged
the fountain of inspiration was waning
and I needed a dose of new character energy
even if some of those characters are icky and shady
even if some of those characters annoy me
I can’t keep writing about the same old repetitive stories
reheating old trauma for the purpose of making art
after a while, it gets exhausting
after a while, it makes no sense since I’ve forgiven them all
and honestly, I can’t do another 4 years of Trump
Celibate and devoid of any romantic energy
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Poetry: Is that you, God?
I wrote this poem in April of 2022:
I saw a cross written in the sky
and I wondered,
“Is that you God?
Is that your sign that I shouldn’t lose
faith or hope
and I need to keep going,to keep living?
Is that you God ?
Telling me everything will be fine
and one day peace will be mine
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poetry: advice
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
my teenager gives my dating advice,
at 13, he thinks he knows everything
after watching an unhealthy amount of romantic animes
and getting his first girlfriend
says romance should be a slow burn
don’t hold hands until the twentieth date
and don’t think about the benefits of the men I’m dating
Concentrate on what my heart is feeling
and I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed
but then again at 44, I am the one divorced
with a trail of several trainwrecks relationships left behind
maybe I should take his words of wisdom seriously
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poetry: gateway
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
mami didn’t know the door she opened when she gave me Becquer”s Rhyme XXX
thought I would just take solace in the spanish poets words about heartbreak and move on
mami had no idea how that poem was a gateway to inspiration for me to write my first poem at 15
and keep writing them 30 years later
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Poetry: Hope
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
Hope lies in the next minute,
the next hour, the next day,the next week
Hope makes us believe
there is something to look forward to
even in our darkest hour
Hope gives us the strength
to continue on when we don’t want to
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poetry: sweet little princess
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
the nuns and mami started into obedience and I reverted into a world of silence
And everyone praised mami about what a good little girl I was
and no one thought much about this
until my parents demanded answers for the rebellious streak in my teens
couldn’t understand the numerous absences, the subpar performance in school,
why I sulked in my bedroom for hours on ended, the disrespect from my mouth
as I stood up for myself, they wondered where their sweet and quiet princess went
all the while they should have looked back 6 or 7 years ago
when they indoctrinated me to hold it all in or else they wouldn’t love me
should have known one day I’d rebel and explode as I was finding my spirit,
my voice once again after it had been buried under layers of good behavior
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poetry: 94
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
abuela, today is your 94th birthday and I still look for you
in mine and papi’s face
I still wonder how your story would have turned out
if you hadn’t been taken away from us at age 50
I still wonder if your spirit was with me and my son
on that magical day 2 years ago
I still weave parts of your story into mine
since our paths were so alike
and today I wonder if along your goddess cleavage,
I also inherited your fiery spirit and generosity
I wonder if right now you’re looking down on me
confused with the life I lead
or accepting and understanding I was made different
from the women in my family
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poetry: the task of failure
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
If failure was a task I would be the poster girl for it
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life,
I am a failure at Being Human
but all of these are thoughts of the past me
the new me doesn’t see herself as a failure
or that she has ever failed at life
she sees failure as a stepping stone and learning curve
the new me sees herself as a winner of life
and not the loser of 1
because she never gave up or didn’t give in
or because she’s a resilient queen
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Poetry: Morning 2021
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
When I open my eyes,I whine and grunt
Another day where I whine,whine, whine
Working to live? Or living to work?
I can’t remember which is better
Living is really just guesswork
Maybe today I won’t feel so much anger
Perhaps I should find hope in this new day
Instead of living in doom and gloom
Maybe the darkness will stay away
Or I’ll cry at work in the bathroom again
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Poetry: ?
I wrote this poem in April of 2022:
I’ve been called an exclamation mark before
But I feel more like a question mark
Because I always ask questions like:
Why am I like this?
How do I get rid of anxious thoughts?
Where does my heart really reside?
What is best for me?
Who will love me?
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poetry: marigolds
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
I manifest a new boyfriend
he’s a poem in the making
he’s someone I’ll meet unexpectedly
He’ll come when the marigolds sprout
and spring is here
He’ll be brave enough to try me on
after I trauma dump
he’ll be my new spring waiting
to bloom with me
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poetry: lies we tell ourselves
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again
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Poetry: EL (part .2 -L.B)
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
subtitles jump from my phone screen violently
one of the few films from 1950’s mexico
that address domestic violence
one of the few films to portray the man
as the crazy one
but instead of him going to prison
for his many crimes against his wife
he ends up locked up in a monastery
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poetry: heather
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
before I was diagnosed with BPD, I was very sick
I wished and wished to be anyone else but me
I really wanted to be a middle class white woman
the kind who grew up with 2 parents in a 2 story house the kind who never had to assimilate to fit it
the kind who never had to to fill out a FAFSA application the kind who was never neglected
and whose feelings were always validated
the kind who writes stories or poems about her favorite horse instead of stories or poems about constantly feeling like a stranger in your adopted homeland
the kind who is mostly respected by men
and not fetichized or called exotic
the kind who’s never had 2 jobs to survive
in this capitalistic society
before I was diagnosed with BPD,I was very sick
I wished and wished to be anyone else but me
but three years into recovery
I’ve healed and wouldn’t want to be anyone else
because while it’s true that many people don’t struggle as much me everyone (even middle class white women)
still have their own set of insecurities and trauma
I know nothing about
I’ve learned I need to focus on myself,
feel gratitude for everything I have
as I reach my goals and chase my dreams
and most importantly
I now love and embrace who I’ve been,
who I am, who I will be
I no longer play a game of envy
and view myself as a broken mess
of who I’ve been or what’s happened to me
I was never those things
I’m a beautiful mosaic of everything
I’ve endured, experienced and lived
Life on the BPD 