poesÃa: mentira tóxica
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: False Fairy Tale
todos creen en nuestra obra de teatro
tienen la impresión que vivimos un cuento de hadas
si solo supieran como me insultas detrás de las puertas cerradas
o como mi almohada se moja con mis lagrimas por tu desprecio
estarÃan con sus bocas abiertas por la mentira tóxica
que vivimos cada dia
Share this:
reflection
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
1/19/23
Share this:
poetry: healthy is not
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I thought that for once I had a healthy kind of love but I was wrong-
Healthy doesn’t carry lies, toning myself down, or accommodate in extremes
Healthy is not running from conflict or avoiding hard conversations
Healthy is not hiding the worst parts of myself because I’m too scared to be alone
Even now, I’m not sure what healthy is-but I didn’t have it with you
Share this:
poetry: Vow
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
the nuns at Holy Spirit would be proud of me
if they saw me with my self imposed celibacy,
with the solitary confinement I’ve placed myself in
They’d mistake my vow of chastity
as me trying to get closer to the holy trinity
when it’s really me being dramatic
about my BPD recovery
Share this:
poetry: Kailua Beach
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
poesia: Aqui
walking along Kailua Beach-remembering the young and impulsive girl I once was
always jumping without looking, always falling in love without thinking
until one day, it all caught up with me and I was ostracized and had to leave
and 4 years later I’m back to the place that brought me so much trauma and chaos
and while I could dwell on my past wrongs and misdeeds
today I’m choosing to give grace and forgiveness to my younger self
who didn’t know any better, who was still discovering who she was
Share this:
poesia: Aqui
escribà este poema en 2003.
de nuevo estoy aquÃ
en el mismo sitio
De los dÃas de mi rebeldÃa
De los amores sin amor
De las aventuras sin cobardÃa
De los lazos que nunca existieron
De la soledad que me brindó tristeza
Y el amor
Que fue una mentira
Share this:
poetry: crayons and guns
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
With excitement in his eyes, my son used to bring me pictures of made up monsters
Drawn with crayons-
With pride in his stance, he now brings me target sheets showing me how he’s well on his way
to becoming a decent shot with a revolver
When did my child go from crayons to guns?
It seems like I blinked and he went from four to twenty four
He went from being a rambunctious little boy who was hard to keep up with
to a strong and independent man who no longer needs me
And while I’m full of joy about this transformation-
I still miss the carefree days of crayon drawn monsters
Share this:
Song of the Day 💗”I still keep hoping” 💗
Share this:
poesia: esquina
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Strange
me tienes en la esquina de confusión y desilusión como un animal
tratando de entenderte, siempre persiguiendote,
Viviendo de los trozos de atención y afección que me tiras
cuando te da la gana
Share this:
poetry: fighting with my teenage son
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Me and my teenage son fight and I regret it the next day
I’ve watched too many people mourn their sons this year
I’ve felt the screams of those close to me
asking God why he took their babies too young
Young men who will never be fathers,
Young men who will never see their children grow up
into rebellious and sassy teens
and while I understand conflicts happens between
parent and child
I also know we’re both on borrowed time
and I don’t want our angry words
to be the last exchange between us
if its his or my last day today
Share this:
Song of the Day 🥳 “I don’t trust these hoes” 🥳
Song of the Day 🥳 “you sent me flying”🥳
Share this:
Song of the Day 🥳 “slot machines, fear of God”🥳
poetry: christopher columbus
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Maybe it’s lack of sex or lack of sleep but I must declare-
Christopher Columbus is a piece of shit
Maybe it’s my own insecurities or maybe it’s a projection
but I must say you can get away with murder
if you’re a white male
Maybe it’s the BPD and the depression
But I must scream FUCK WHITE SUPREMACY
Life on the BPD 