I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
you look lost in your thoughts
is there something wrong, something I did-
what’s on your mind that makes you silent and sad
tell me what’s going on-
so I can help lessen your burden
poetry: burden
poetry: right for me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
in 2021, I ventured from the moon and landed on the ace of pentacles
never expecting to experience a revolution of self love
never expecting to one day feel like I was enough
but when I found myself down and alone
with no one to lift me up
I had to find my inner strength, my queen resilience
to slowly lift myself up and walk and eventually run
towards the light my ancestors turned on for me
it became a marathon of healing with ugly twists
where I stumbled at times
but eventually I found a rhythm in my routine
that was conducive to my healing journey
and I learned to dance with life
life no longer happened to me as I sat quietly
and in my misery
this time I danced with life stomping my feet
loudly and dramatically
no longer caring what others thoughts of me
from that moment on
I became the heroine and my own muse
in my life movie
owning everything that happened to me
Understanding the power and magic
I always held within
had been and will always be too much for others
but it will always be right for me
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poetry: I’m Ready
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
i found heaven on friday after 6 months of waiting and anticipating
my heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness
I found hope on tuesday night in his arms
I remembered what it was like to desired and wanted
and I didn’t realize how much I missed heaven and hope
until I found them again the first week of october
now I don’t want to let go of both
now I’m filled to the brim of my soul
with excitement for what comes next,
for what impossibilities I’ll make into possibilities
into realities in the next stage of my life
I will no longer live life vicariously
and stand on the sidelines
I’ll step out, take risks, fall and stumble many times
I’m ready
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poetry: white pendejadas
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
Trauma after trauma
I have withstood
Standing up right away and pretending
everything was fine
There was no time
for tears or processing
of feelings
That was a luxury for
the white upper class
Therapy-pssst
No time or money for
that either –
It’s gringo concept
Self care – that’s only
for the rich
No, you’re a latina Woman
our people rely on grit
and resilience
There is no time for white pendejadas
No, you’re a latina woman –
you only need the strength
from your ancestors
to survive this life
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poetry: committed
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
what will be done with pure intentions and in alignment with my values
will nurture my creative spirit, will be the ultimate recipe for success
and will be a legacy of authenticity for future generations
Sometimes I wonder who I’m doing it for
and I find the answer when I look in the mirror
when I look at my sons
what I imagine my grandchildren
and I’m committed again to my life’s purpose
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poetry: salve
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
telling our stories, reading our poetry
building community
is the salve for humanity
let’s start another revolution of love
except this time without the drugs
this time let’s make something more inclusive,
more accepting of everyone
let’s keep the music, the frolicking in the fields,
the free spirits,
and let’s become a sanctuary for one another
if we do this, we’ll have a shot at breaking away
from the curse of violence that plagues this nation
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poetry: magician
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
I’m a master magician of emotional alchemy
transforming my suffering into poetry
I never meant for it to happen that way
but life gave me no other viable option
it was either I became magician or I died
and the spark within me was too strong
to give into my self pity and depression
so here I am
making sense through poetry out of my madness
and the nonsense life has thrown at me
and done my best with it
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poetry: desire
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
warm and wild thoughts go through my mind
if only you looked my way one day
and saw me as an object of desire
ugh, it’s that time again
I must be ovulating
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poetry: happily divorced after
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
I never did get my happily ever after
but I did get my happily divorced after
and a year after it was all done
and signed by the judge
I feel gratitude for solitude
and breathe a sigh of relief
that I won’t settle ever again
for fear of being lonely
never again will I ever allow
Societal pressure to write my life’s
Narrative
and never again will I stay somewhere
Past the expiration date
because of fear or for the sake of appearances
I never did get my happily ever
but I did get my happily divorced after
and life feels joyous and glorious
and I am the most empowered version
of myself
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Ivy
Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.
the ceilings of America are laced with poison ivy
every time I act out of the norm or forget to code switch
people tell me I’m too dramatic -ouch-
accused of being toxic and crazy-damn
and a rash of doubt takes over my mind
I’ll never fit it, no one will ever love or accept me
and I turn down who I am
but even that doesn’t work
it makes things worse
and I explode and project-
fuck you, you’re blocked
then I discover therapy -slowly I heal
accept the pieces of myself that will never fit in
exhibit myself in my most authentic form
and slowly the poison ivy becomes an ivy of love and growth
and I understand that to be happy
I need let go of normalcy
and embrace my unconventional and eccentric self
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poetry: summer storms
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
the storms this summer have been intense and scary
Some days I had to run for cover, other days I ended up
saturated in self hate
the storms this summer tried desperately to tear me apart
ruin my reputation
everyone watched me waiting for me to turn into
a trainwreck
but instead I do what I always do
rise out of the ashes most triumphantly
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poetry: olympic sport
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
if self sabotage was an olympic sport, I’d win the gold medal
so many times I’d been close to reaching my potential
only to screw it up later
maybe it’s the insecure and anxious little girl
who still lives within me
who’s scared of conquering fears and chasing her dreams
I need to figure out a way to quell her
to give her closure and peace so she’ll let me be
live in peace and stop sabotaging everything
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poetry : august
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
August is here and I hold onto
the few slivers of hope left in me
as I reach another rock bottom
self correcting and not making myself a victim
making sure I’m better than yesterday
Trying my best to control my emotions
knowing that somewhere in the wash
of this downward spiral
will come the biggest silver lining
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poetry: miracle
I wrote this poem in July of 2024.
I’m going to paint the sky with all of the colors of your love
red, green, yellow, dark gray, midnight blue, and black
every single color you’ve brought to my life
it’s will be the most epic mural who beauty will rival
the taj mahal
a mural decided to my own miracle of your love
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oxapampa
wordpress prompt:If you won two free plane tickets, where would you go?
I want someone to take to oxapampa
so I can show him where part of my story started
so he can watch the sun rise and the sun set
on my family’s farmland
so I can experience joy through his eyes
for the first time as he observes the beauty
of the land
So I can watch his face when he takes a sip
for the first time of the world class beer 7 vidas
so we can take tourist pics at the plaza
and the church were my dad was baptized in
dance the night and awkwardly laugh
at the cultural appropriation of the Cheyenne Club
so right after we end up at the Hakuna Matata karaoke bar
when I sing “Lover” to him off key
as he sits in his chair and cringes in embarrassment
and tells me I’m crazy and everyone stares at us
so we could have breakfast with my tia
with the eggs, chorizo, coffee, and milk coming
from the family farm as we all awkwardly make small talk
about our plans for the day
I want someone to take to oxapampa to hug trees,
go on hikes in the jungle, and make love in some little cabin
but I’ll have to wait and wait until the universe
sends someone worthy of going the magical land
of oxapampa
written in September of 2023
Life on the BPD 