I wrote this poem in June of 2025.
floating in a neon pink haze , the afterlife awaits
no more suffering, no more mental health crisis
no more dark doses of reality
this could be lovely and nice
but I’m pushed out by forces beyond my control
wake up in a fog
my soul’s purpose has not been fulfilled
I must continue telling my story
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
In therapy I’m supposed to write about the last thing that cause me grief
and I think it’s funny considering the tons of poetry and journal entries
I’ve written about it
I’m tired of writing about it, I’m tired of talking about it
I’m tired of thinking about it
and I want to tell my therapist I don’t have homework for this week
but this is part of therapy
this is what I need to address the unhealed trauma within
so I’ll write for the 1000th time about the last thing that caused trauma and grief
hoping my therapist will provide valuable insight on how to let go of it
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I believe in second and third chances
because more often than not
I’m the one who’s written off
because more often than
I’m left after the first time I fuck up
because more often than
I’m expected to be almost perfect
and this weighs on me heavily
but it’s my cruel reality
so I’ll give a second, a third, even a 4th chance
because I believe people can change
because I accept people for the humans they are
because even if my benevolence burns me at times
at least I don’t commit an emotional crime
cause judgment without compassion
makes one an inhumane and callous
I wrote this poem in May of 2019.
And so she self medicated
with sleeping pills, alcohol
and Almodovar films
she wanted to drown out
the feelings of worthlessness
within her
she was exhausted
from repeating the same lust story
she needed just for today
to numb out her feelings,
to escape the fire in her brain
that burns with self-pity and self hate
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
Wish I could say I’m a chill and cool kind of girl when it comes to love
but I’m not
because once I’m into you and I let you in
it will be hard to get rid of me
because I am a nurturer and I’ll love you with my whole heart
and I’ll make you the center of my world and find ways for us to get closer
wait, wait, wait
this version of me no longer exist
she went up in flames a few years back
Nowadays, the slightest sirens go off in me and I want to run away and block him
Cease and desist any evidence of him, the slightest offence
and it takes everything out of me to remember my skills learned in therapy
Tell him, I need a bit of time to process and we’ll talk in the morning
I know that after a good night’s sleep, I’ll look at things differently
and won’t fuck up my new love story because of a single simple misunderstanding
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
I’m the girl who screamed wolf in love in my poems one too many times
always acting like I’m the victim
always acting like I’m the hurt party
always acting like I’m fucked over in love when the truth is
I too have broken hearts
I too am shit at relationships
I too dispose of men once they fall off from my pedestal
and so perhaps, I need to stop screaming wolf
and accept that every once in a while
I am the wolf who’s capable of destroying and disposing of people as well
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
I need to exorcize you and you out of me before I step into a new chapter of love
It’s not fair to him to allow past chapters to haunt me and make me question my sanity
and maybe that’s ghosting you and sharing our story of toxic love in spanish
and while my methods may be a tad questionable
it’s the best I can do for now and for me, it’s enough
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
there are days I don’t feel strong enough to be their mom
maybe it’s insecurity that weighs heavily on me
after every fight, after every conflict
it was easier when they were small
and I was their favorite person
the one they ran to the moment I opened the door
nowadays I work much and they have their own interests
to have much to do with me
nowadays they bring up grievances of everything
I’ve done and am doing wrong
is this karma for being a bad daughter to my mom
is this karma for being selfish and self absorbed
for a few years of their lives
Who knows-
maybe it’s not about being strong, being right,
or being respected
maybe it’s about them knowing they are loved
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
It’s fading fast, the time where you willingly spend time with me
Soon you’ll prefer your friends to me
Soon you’ll lock yourself in your room and only come out for food
Your voice is changing and you’re already taller than me
and your hormones makes you all kinds of angry
and me and everyone in the house are in denial
that you’re growing up
because you’ve been the baby for so long
our little rainbow who lights up our family
and it’s hard for us to accept our baby is blossoming
into a young man
and every day my heart hurts more thinking
how fast it’s all going, and how soon I’ll be forgotten
slowly fading into your background
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
I punish the men in my life with silence
I learned it from my mom
she’d last days without saying a word to my dad
after a fight
always waited until he broke down and apologized
she always needed to win
and while I’m not as brutal as her
I need to protect myself when a man makes me feel
like I’m not good enough, like I’m a monster
so I walk away calm and give a silence so deafening
they’re ask a million questions why
they’ll search answers in between the lines
of the posts I write
and if they’re smart enough and get the hint,
they’ll stay away from me
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
My son is blossoming and becoming the man
I always knew he could be
He’s ambitious, he’s kind,he’s a hard worker
He’s a mother’s dream come true
And while at times he may still stumble and occasionally
He’s inherited strength and resilience from me
It keeps him from giving up
It keeps him moving towards a life full of success and happiness
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
it found me on a tuesday afternoon, inspiration for a book
a poetry book of sorts telling my life story
and while this has happened many times
I pray this one sticks because I have all of my material
in my google docs
at the very least, it’s given me inspiration as to where
to go next
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times you’ve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
saliva drips from my month as a gentle desire overtakes me
tacos de carne asada with onions and cilantro in front of me
he knew exactly how to start melting the jaded and bitter bitch in me
he knew how to lure out the romantic in me who’s terrified to start anew
and while to some it may seem like a simple gesture
he knew that to me it meant everything
I wrote a poem in April of 2025.
Sharks from the screen come alive
and devour my heart
i lose all sense of time
and place
who am i?
where am i?
Is this a nightmare?
everything become nonsense
in between
of another before
and AFTER!
Life on the BPD 