poetry: to be human

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

sometime we lose our way and buy shit from Amazon we didn’t need

life is full of making mistakes and then regretting them
It can’t happen any other way
because to be human is to make mistakes
to be human is a series of misadventures
where sometimes we lose our way

poetry: my anger walks in

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

watch out when I have this look on my face…lol

my anger walks in and I feel an earthquake within
and I become the saltiest bitch
Writing poetry about anyone who’s wronged me
but then again it is entertaining
Seeing how mean and petty I can be
It’s not like I’m vindictive or seeking out revenge
most of these new angry poems won’t be shared with the world
it will be kept inside the pages of my notebooks and journals
I just need to let it out and scream
Fuck you, fuck him, fuck her, fuck the world, fuck everything
Before I take it out on anybody
before I post something stupid and cringy I’ll regret later
before I allow the world to know how I’m burning

poetry: best birthday gift

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

best birthday gift ever

He came into my life on a cold february night-
He decided to make a dramatic entrance
on my 24th birthday
He didn’t mean to steal my thunder as he tried
to make his entrance-a month beforehand
But fortunately the doctors stopped
his almost too sudden arrival
But that cold February night-
was the right time for him
I wanted to go the natural route
but he had other plans with the horrible pain he caused
EPIDURAL PLEASE-LIKE RIGHT NOW
OR I DON’T KNOW HOW I’M GETTING
THIS CHILD OUT
Within minutes he was out and once again
I was in love but this time with the life I created

poetry: I trust myself

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

it’s time to trust my intuition

I fall in love and obsessed over these concepts over who I should be,
over who I should love, over who I should mirror
I read and read books on BPD, mental health, and trauma constantly
I take advice from influencers, poets, and psychologists on social media
Seriously thinking this is how I heal, this is how I become healthy
but that’s a lie-
while everything I do helps me
I need to listen to my intuition more
I need to trust myself more
and acknowledge I’m doing enough
and come to an understanding I am on my heroine’s journey
that’s unique only to me
honor my truth within me, accept it, and that’s how I begin to really heal

my combat boots

October of 2021…a couple of months after I bought these boots
Daily writing prompt
Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.

my favorite pair of shoes are my black combat boots. I bought them sometime in the summer of 2021 during an impulsive shopping spree. They’re taken me to live shows and they are what I wear every time I go to perform at a new open mic. I also wore them with my Harley Quinn outfit for Halloween of 2021. They’re also one of my most comfortable pair of shoes and they go with a lot of my outfits. I’ve worn them with dresses, jeans, and shorts. It’s a weird thing to say but I feel like these boots help build up my confidence at a time when I was feeling shitty about myself and now they’ve become a very important part of my aesthetic. Every time I wear these boots with my dress beige dress to work, my coworkers know I’m moody AF and tread carefully. I’ve also worn them on my plane trip to Peru last year. So yeah, they’ve taken me to my homeland and back. It was a bitch to take them off for the TSA checkpoint but it was worth it so my fit was right.

2 years later in 2023 at Night of Spite open mic…

poetry: one day

I wrote this in February of 2020.

me in February of 2020

One day you’ll be a bad dream I’ll wake up from
One day someone will come along and you’ll be a distant memory
of an intense and toxic past who took over my life for a while
One day I’ll be loved by someone the way you could never love me
One day I’ll look back on our time together and regret every moment wasted on you
One day you won’t haunt my soul and mind
One day you will no longer be my muse
One day is here, now and forever

poetry: it stops with me

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

one of my reasons for doing all of the inner work

If only I could bypass the trauma lived and experienced
my life would be a lot easier
Perhaps I’d be fulfilled and not on this neverending heroine journey
to acknowledge how trauma happened to me
to understand how it changed me
to tells the stories from it so I can begin to heal from it
to do all of the work so I don’t pass it on to my sons
and their children
because this legacy of intergenerational silence with violence
needs to stop with me
even if it’s sometimes a painful nightmare to deal with

Nonsense

so this was written about a former muse.lol.

but of course….
Daily writing prompt
Are there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time?

I love you like the alcoholic loves alcohol
I can’t live without you
And have a deep never ending desire for you
when the sun rises you’re my first thought
and before I fall asleep, you’re my last thought
I don’t know if you’ll ever reciprocate
but for now I’m content with seeing you almost
Daily-admiring you from afar

8/31/22

poetry: reassurance

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

exactly

I look to the cards for reassurance things will turn out alright
that I am doing all of the important things to light the flame to a bright future
that my past is now behind me and I will no longer be chained to it
that I’ll fully live in my present

poetry: reflection

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

I’m proudest of the woman I became on Sept 8, 2023-my liberation day

I reflect a lot on who I was, who I am, and who I will be-
and I’ve reach the conclusion that I’m proud of all three versions of me
Constantly fighting my demons no matter how viciously they came after me
Constantly reinventing and rebuilding myself even when the chaotic earthquakes
of life broke me apart
I reflect on the goddess, the beast in me who always refuses to give up
who continues to get and keep going no matter how hard life tries to break me down

pandora’s box of trauma

it also helps in the healing process
Bloganuary writing prompt
What do you complain about the most?

reopening my pandora’s of trauma makes me tear the old version of me apart
makes me revisit parts of myself I’d rather forget
and makes me angry at how my insanity was enabled
I know I should be compassionate, I know I should understand that the past
can no longer hurt me
but -oh-every time I open that pandora’s box of trauma
the fire of self loathing and rage threatens to consume me
and while I could leave that pandora’s box closed-
I have no choice but to open it over and over again
it’s one of the most important parts of my story
Emotional scars need to be ripped open and analyzed
to heal and make sense of who I am now

1/9/24

poesía: conveniencia

here’s the english version of this poem:

poetry: charade of love

se que en las mejores relaciones hay monotonía
pero lo que estamos viviendo me llena de ira
me esta volviendo loca,
esto se siento como el fin de nuestro cuento de amor
y los dos somos demasiados cobardes para aceptar
que la vida que hemos construida se está volviendo
una montaña de resentimiento y desilusión
donde estamos atrapados por conveniencia

poetry: the highway

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

me right before I wrote this poem

Consorting with this newfound empowerment is overwhelming and lonely at times
I finally understand that never again do I have to depend on a man for anything-
and I breathe a huge sigh of relief
I no longer use them to determine my worth based on whether any of them
pay attention to me
I no longer use them for validation and no longer make myself small
for their ego
I now determined my own self worth and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for
since the age of 15

poetry: candle

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

no fuck you and your pedantic machismo- oh and PWM =privileged white male

I light a candle, put on music, and pay tribute to all that I will never be-
it’s not like I’m denying myself possibilities or opportunities
I’m just acknowledging certain realities
I’ll never have the proper words, the necessary pretentious words
of the upper class pedigree to be published in one of those prestigious journals
or win a pulitzer prize
I’ll never be seen as an equal in American because I’ll always be a foreigner
and while this brings me a certain kind of grief
I also celebrate how different I am
I’ll never filter my words or fake eloquence or elegance
to make myself digestible to those with multiple degrees
Nah, I’m a mosaic masterpiece, with my bad grammar,
my simple vocabulary
and my powerful and emotionally charged phrases
I’m not and never will be for those with sensitive ears or palettes
and I’ll always take pride in that