Poetry: Lost Cause
I wrote this in January of 2003 about Lucas. I was still obsessing about him.

Your love was a lost cause
when it was her you chose
but at night I still toss and turn
wondering why it wasn’t me you yearned
Was it the hurtful fact?
You wanted to keep your life intact
Or was it because
I wasn’t good enough
To make the ultimate sacrifice
to leave your perfect and fake life
Poetry: Not Just Lust
I wrote this in January of 2003 but I’m not sure who I wrote this about. Haha.

I think you should know
I want to take things slow
I don’t want to rush
And end up again a lush
I want to know you
Before kissing you
I want us to be friends
Before getting intense
You’re going to have to understand
Before becoming my man
I want it to be true
And not just lust
Poesía: Decepción
Escribí este poema en el 2003. Estaba bien decepcionada después de tantas relaciones que tronaron.

Después de tanta decepción y desilusión
Me quedo con un gran rencor
Hacia esos hombres
Que me hacen comer palabras dulces
Y me hacen creer en el amor
Solo para después dejarme
con un derrame de lágrimas
O hacerme creer que a él me pueda atar
Solo para después
Burlarse de mi dignidad
Al dejarme de nuevo en una soledad negra
O me hacen feliz por querer amarme a mi
Solo para después irse de mi vida
Sin voltear atrás o pensar en mi bienestar
O me hacen caer en su maravillosa forma de ser
Solo para después pisotear mi corazón
Con su indifferente desamor
Poetry: Like Every Other Fool
I wrote this 20 years ago on November 1st right before the great breakup of 2001. I wish I could say that I get over breakups quicker now but that would be a lie. After fights or breakups with partners, I seem to always go back to the girl I was in my teens and 20s. My brain is wired that way and I’ve accepted it. It’s something called age regression that shows up in people with Borderline Personality Disorder. Fear of abandonment is so severe that some of us will feel like we are literally dying after a breakup. Some of us will stop eating, some of us will sleep for days, some of will self harm or have suicidal ideation. With each breakup, I’ve noticed I’ve acquired healthier coping mechanisms. Nowadays, I’ve learned to listen more to what I need in order to heal than what doing what I used to do to escape the pain of heartbreak. My method now is cut off all contact with the ex, exercise, write a LOT and do loads of self care. I’m careful not to fall into any quick escapes from my feelings like going on tinder and trying to find someone new. Do I think I will ever get better at accepting a breakup like a normal person? I don’t know but I hope so. While I’m thankful for all of the inspiration and growth that comes from every breakup ;it’s also very overwhelming, exhausting and draining at times.

You showed up unexpectedly in my life
Like a pleasant surprise
Calling and seeing me every day
Making me dinner
and leaving me roses on my dashboard
I thought “finally, the one has come”
Suddenly all of those nice things
started becoming scarce
The dinners, the roses, seeing me
became non-existent
Even talking to you on the phone
has become too much of a bother of you
I’m no fool, I know exactly
where this doomed thing is headed
Pretty soon you’ll give me some lame excuse
As to why “we” can no longer be
And my heart will shatter
into pieces yet again
There will be nothing left to say
I’ll just realize once again
You’re just like every other fool
Poetry: Drunk and Blue
I wrote this on January 1st, 2003 about this dude that I hooked up with a week prior. I was upset about John and of course wanted to escape from my feelings of rejection. So I started once again seeking validation from men and ended up hooking up with some guy from the bar.

The night I met you
I was drunk and blue
Because of that impossible love
Who said I wasn’t good enough
So I decided to drink my pain away
and then you came my way
With your charming and smooth manner
I should’ve known you were a player
But you told me everything
That I wanted to believe in
How you had never met anyone like me
And that you wanted us to be
It sound almost too good to be true
But i was feeling lonely too
So i decided to give in to you
Afterwards you promised to call
But instead you went awol
And many days later I sit here
In a river of foolish tears
Wondering why why why
I always fall for the same false lines
Poetry: Crooked Turn
I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Guess I was still mad at the rejection I felt when he ghosted me.

If I was nothing more
Than another girl
Why couldn’t you have been straight
Instead of acting in an enamored way
And made me really believe
You truly care for me
but I should have known all along
that you’d be the same jerk song
Hopefully one day I’ll learn
to stop taking all you crooked turns
Poetry: Hard
I wrote this in January of 2003. I’m honestly surprised that after so much disappointment in the dating world, I still had faith. I guess I was still a hopeless romantic at that point.

It’s so hard sometimes to be nice
When you’ve cried so many times
Over so many sorry ass guys
When you are always done wrong
You wonder what’s taking so long
To find a warm hearted guy
Who’ll give you the moon and the sky
To find that special man
that was written for you in the sand
Sometimes you almost want to give up
and just suck it up
And say “I’m so through”
With always being used
But you have to have faith
That one day you’ll find somebody great
And all of these lonely nights
Will finally have an end in sight
Poetry: Company
I wrote this in 2002 about my former friend Brad. He was the type of “friend” that kept trying to sleep with him and I tried to have boundaries with him. I guess I should have seen the red flags then.

My dear friend
Why do you want to stay with me tonight?
Is it because you’re lonely?
Or is it because you’re sad?
Or maybe you just crave the company of my warm body
Sorry but I can’t allow it
Because I’m selfish
And want to keep memories of you pure
and free of any sexual intimacy
Reflection: My Relationship with Poetry

Poetry is and always has been a big part of my life. Poetry is everywhere . Poetry is in the lyrics I sing, it’s in the love I make, it’s in the beauty of nature, and even in the grief I feel. Since as long as I can remember, I’ve used poetry to process my feelings.
At first, it was me finding comfort in song lyrics when sadness or anxiety hit me even as a young child. I remember being 5 and belting out the heartbreaking lyrics to Juan Gabriel’s song “Querida: or the romantic lyrics Daniela Romo’s “De Mi Enamorate”. When I came to the United States in the 80s, I learned English at school but also through song lyrics. I remember at 6 or 7 singing the lyrics to George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” or Rick Astley’s “Together Forever”.
Around 6th grade when I started getting crushes on boys that never gave me the time of day, I would alternate between being angry and singing salty songs like “Someday” by Mariah Carey or singing and crying to Boyz II Men’s “End of The Road”. Yes, I’ve been super dramatic and emotional since I can remember. Haha.
Here is a short playlist of these songs:
And then came the age of the internet when poetry became accessible to me with just a few clicks. I remember being ghosted by this ex when I was 15 and finding this poetry forum with poems full of teenage angst, anger and sadness. It was incredible to me that there were other people feeling how I felt. Yes, some of these poems could be called cringy and corny – but it got me through what I thought was the worst heartbreak I was experiencing at that time. Here are a few of those poems



Around this time my mom noticed my new fondness for poetry and introduced me to the love poetry of the Spanish poet Gustavo Becquer and I swooned. This is my favorite poem of his:

Eventually I started writing poetry to process my feelings and this is one of the first ones I wrote inspired by what else-a breakup. Haha.

In some of my blog posts, I’ve said that I shouldn’t have written poems about so and so and should have gone to therapy; and while that may be true, poetry was also a type of therapy for me. Whether it was writing salty and angry poems or processing feelings of infatuation or existential dread; poetry has been one of the few constants in my life
In my 20s, I discovered Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman” and Sylvia’s Plath “To a Jilted Lover” and my love for poetry became even stronger.


At that time, I also found the courage to join the literary club in college and start reading my own poetry in front of my peers. I call it brave because poets that share their poems, whether it be through open mic night, social media, a blog, or a book are sharing an intimate part of themselves with the world. They’re sharing their vulnerability, their grief, and sometimes even their most private thoughts. It’s brave to do this in a world that shouts at you to “fuck feelings “or tries to tone down the many emotions we as humans feel as we go through this beautiful and complicated thing called life. Sharing your poetry can feeling like opening and inviting the world to your innermost and private thoughts.
For me, poetry is part of how I process life. Sharing my poetry through my blog or at open mic sometimes feels like the last step in healing from trauma. I told my therapist that sharing my poetry through my blog feels cathartic because afterwards it feels like I’m completely done with revisiting a traumatic event. I’ve also received comments from people that they’re related to my poetry because of something similar they’ve felt or have gone through and that’s the other reason I share my poetry. IF even one person can relate to any of my poems and it makes them not feel so alone then I’ve done my job as a poet.

Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.

Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar
Poetry: Stupid Game
I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.

I hate playing this stupid game
Called dating
Trying to decide
Which move to make
So you can have him at checkmate
It’s no longer about falling in love
Or even real feelings
But it’s about winning
So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice
I don’t dare give in to this yearning
To want to call him
Because then they’ll almost be winning
Poesia: Algo Pasajero
Escribi este poema en Diciembre del 2002 porque estaba amarga y triste que los hombres siempre me tratan como un juguete.

Los hombres me miran
y yo sé que ven
Nada más que ese algo pasajero
Que nunca de amor se atrevería hablar
Pero ya me canse
De la manera que me ven
Porque yo soy más
que un cuerpo en sus camas
Porque yo tengo sentimientos
Y quisiera algo verdadero a mi lado
Porque ya no quiero ser
Nada más que una de sus muchas amantes
Porque algún día quisiera tener
Un verdadera hombre
Que me vea mas allá
Que una de sus muchas faldas
Y va a querer saber quien soy en realidad
Para empezar a amarme!
Poesia: Adios
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de todos los pinches canallas que me han roto el corazón.

Adiós es todo lo que se puede decir
Cuando tu ser mas querido te hace sufrir
Aguantarte el derrame de lágrimas
Es lo que tienes que hacer
Para que el vea
Que eres una mujer fuerte
Callarte los gritos dolorosos
Y no le mirés a sus ojos
Y sonreír por más doloroso que sea
Para salvar alguna parte de tu dignidad
Y para que el vea
Que no logró su meta
De hacer lo que quiera contigo
Que para él no más fuiste un juego
Y después cuando él se arrepiente
De ser un desgraciado ser
Tu le puedes decir por fin
Nunca más te deseo cerca de mi
Poetry: Gone
I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.

I woke up one day
To see that you had gone away
All you left was a note
You could no longer cope
With our love mess
You had tried your very best
To be the man I wanted you to be
The one who only cared for me
You had only pretended to be true
And now you say the time has come
You’re sorry it took so damn long
All that is left is goodbye
You tell me to not even ask why
You wish me the best in life
One day I’ll make a great wife
And with your signature you sign off
I hope that someday you’ll find true love

