I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
after the thunderstorm came and went
I wrote a hundred poems about what happened
I didn’t know how to process it
and 1 hour in therapy didn’t cut it
the epic flood of grief that followed
and while it may seem excessive and melodramatic
It was either I kept writing
or I kept dreaming of dying
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I never paid much attention to where I put my body
I never really cared as long as my sexual needs were met
as long it was called sexy
but this habit hurt me over and over again
Until one day I was trapped and couldn’t breathe
and I watched my body from afar being desecrated
by the person who claimed to love me
after that day-
I grew protective of my precious body
ran away from anyone who might hurt it
my body is too much of a masterpiece
for me to allow it to ever be
defiled and disrespected in the name of “love”
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
we talked about the various colors of the sunset
but were never still enough to watch one together
we ran out of time and love
to watch poetry written in nature
escribí este poema en junio del 2022.
déjame en paz porque nuestros encuentros
ya no tienen propósito
porque ya no me inspiras
y estoy aburrida
de nuestro cuento caótico
nunca cambiaras
y yo nunca seré la mujer de tu vida
y yo merezco alguien que me trate como algo más
que un escape temporaneo para tu soledad
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
you’re my small town I’ve outgrown but am afraid to leave
no one seems to understand this
they’re concerned you’re holding me back
they’re concerned staying with you stiffens my dreams
and while I know they want what’s best for me
and I agree with most of what they say
How do I explain to them, it’s more complicated
than I’ve made it out to be
while you are hard to live with
life without you feels almost empty
and while it’s the right thing to do to end our marriage
so we can move forward as a family
it’s still hard to imagine a beginning without you
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I called you a villain in my book of lust and love
I never saw your humanity
I never understood how I played my part
in our chaotic and dysfunctional story of love
Instead it was easier to blame you over and over again
It was easier to play the victim
rather than try to accept you as the imperfect human that you are
Rather than to see how you never wanted a “we;
rather than to accept you just wanted someone sometimes
to not feel so lonely
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
you love me anxious,insecure, and a hot mess
and love to add fuel to my insecurities and fears
to keep me with you, to control me
and I try and try to break out of this toxic codependency
tied up in a box of good intentions
with your excuse that you know what’s best for me
when it’s holding me back from realizing my potential
from becoming the most powerful version of myself
it makes me wonder
did you ever really love me
or did you choose me on purpose to build up your ego?
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
today I’m being too hard on myself
always thinking about how I’m not doing enough
about how I’m not hustling enough
how there are still days when my anxiety
gets the best of me
I’ve tried my hardest to quell my inner critic
but it still visits me when I don’t have enough sleep
or when my inner winter is about to hit
and it points out all of my insecurities
and I try to hack my brain into being confident again
but all I can do is feel disgust and shame
as a new cycle of insanity hits
And if it’s bad enough I cry
or it kicks me in the gut and makes me sick
and my body says enough is enough
that’s when I finally listen to it-
rest, recharge, understand this is just one day
and not my whole life
I wrote this poem in June of 2020.
He knows how to reach me
in a way no one else can
his tentacles are embedded in me
and it’s hard to escape
I’ve tried and have succeeded
and felt a sense of freedom-
But then
His tentacles reach out
and grab me
it’s useless trying to free myself-
He’s got a spell over
My mind, my body and my soul
He rules it with lips and his hands
And his body–
And his tentacles are encrusted deep within me–
Will I ever be truly free?
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I finally killed the romantic in me
and I feel free and so happy
because me and love are a toxic and explosive combo
that makes me a terrible, crazy and delusional soul
because love always brings out the worst in
and right now, I need peace, I need calm
I need to find stability within
and I’ll never have that as long as I try to hold on to
the romantic in me
Goodbye to love
You never made me feel like I was enough
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
this didn’t come easily but I finally love myself to the moon and back
it was a hard process after so many years of self loathing
and drowning in my insecurities
I was my own worst enemy constantly focusing and scrutinizing
Every single one of my imperfections
Ugh, I’m too dumb or too fat or too old
Never did I see myself as a masterpiece of God’s making until this year
and now I’ve grown to love and accept every version of myself
because despite of all of my mistakes and flaws
I’m still worthy of all the love in the world
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
after everything was done and dusted,
all that was left were the memories of the woman I had been-
I used to hate her, absolutely loathe her
viewing her as weak and worthless
for allowing the painful words of others
to rob her of her confidence and power
but now I see how brave she was
trying to fight her demons in her mind
Day in and day out, no matter what
always getting up to function
she gathered her strength from somewhere
to become the version of me I am today
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
The sweetness of life has me on a euphoric high
where everything and everyone is wonderful
where nothing or noone can bring me down
And I feel like a goddess, a bad bitch, a Queen
I live for moments like this where happiness is my best friend
But then the sourness of life happens
and I’m brought down to a hell of depression and despair
Where I hate everything and everyone
Where everything weighs me down
and I’m losing my mind
And I feel worthless, crazy and like a selfish bitch
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
old trauma wounds swim up to the surface
Triggered by a thoughtless comment
a dismissive action
and I speak up this time instead of holding it in
But I’m ignored
as if my hurt feelings mean nothing
But this time, instead of letting it go
and going with the flow
I reciprocate the same dismissive energy
because the version of me
Who’d allow herself to be run over
just to be accepted no longer exists
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
My aura is a bright orange red
it means I’m passionate, it means I get angry easily
it means I have the most intense energy
and while I joke how my soul is black
my aura tells a different story
It tells a story of a woman who loves hard
who’s an emotional mess at times
Who fosters a unique strength and resilience to go on
Who’s a fucking Goddess
