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 this poem in April of 2025.
my teenager gives my dating advice,
at 13, he thinks he knows everything
after watching an unhealthy amount of romantic animes
and getting his first girlfriend
says romance should be a slow burn
don’t hold hands until the twentieth date
and don’t think about the benefits of the men I’m dating
Concentrate on what my heart is feeling
and I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed
but then again at 44, I am the one divorced
with a trail of several trainwrecks relationships left behind
maybe I should take his words of wisdom seriously
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
Hope lies in the next minute,
the next hour, the next day,the next week
Hope makes us believe
there is something to look forward to
even in our darkest hour
Hope gives us the strength
to continue on when we don’t want to
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
I manifest a new boyfriend
he’s a poem in the making
he’s someone I’ll meet unexpectedly
He’ll come when the marigolds sprout
and spring is here
He’ll be brave enough to try me on
after I trauma dump
he’ll be my new spring waiting
to bloom with me
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
try to keep my romantic spirit alive
with a swenting of a man who doesn’t exist
Yet
a man I will call my boyfriends y el amor de mi vida
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
subtitles jump from my phone screen violently
one of the few films from 1950’s mexico
that address domestic violence
one of the few films to portray the man
as the crazy one
but instead of him going to prison
for his many crimes against his wife
he ends up locked up in a monastery
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
what if the colonizer in me took over
and I declared manifest destiny on every man
I fancied, even if he was taken
what if I didn’t care about the other woman
and was a completely selfish bitch
and become an expert homewrecker
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
Cowboy with your boots and maga hat
Stay away from me
forget I ever existed
forget that once upon a time
I was your wendy to your peter
forget I always flew to you
when you texted me
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
I’m soldier of love
too lost battles for me to count and recount
how many times I’ve had to stitch my heart over and over again
from the many knives past lovers have stabbed me with
with the last one, I almost lost all hope for love
It made me lose my sanity and almost gave me PTSD
Still the romantic in me refused to die
and resurfaced this year
Told me, “this time it will be different, this time you have self respect
and you’ll be choosy over who’s worthy of your love energy”
I wrote this poem in February of 2025.
raindrops serendipiciously hit the window panes of our room
and the wind sings a song everyone can hear
I lay on your chest in our bed in awe of what just happened
caught lovestruck with a smile of love
thankful for this second chance at marriage
for so long I thought I was doomed to be alone
never expected to find you
especially the way you showed up in my life
and now there isn’t a space between us
and you look at me with goofy smile of yours
the one that inspires the poet in me and say
“we need to make up for lost time”
I wrote this poem in February of 2025.
between heartbeats and honeysuckle, they fell in love
this time, it was different for both of them
this time it didn’t take much to see that both of them
Wanted to exchange I dos
this time they believed in forever and happily ever after
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
I give you the gift of my heart with everything in it
so please be careful with it
I don’t want it to be broken apart again
if you decide to leave on a whim
I wrote this poem in February of 2025.
With a fiery madness, she survived and made it out alive
tragedy after tragedy, diagnosis after diagnosis
she questioned how or why she did it
Many stood astonished at how she kept herself together
and composed even as her life and her body fell apart
but after a while it was easy for her to triumph
after every devastating plot twist
she was something else
a mixture of manic pixie girl and goddess
she was special
I wrote this poem of February of 2025.
one day I’ll meet a man who won’t be afraid to take my hand
and declare his love for me in public
one day I’ll meet a man who won’t have eyes for another body
other than mine
One day I’ll meet a man whose values aligns with mine
One day I’ll meet a man who’s always looking for ways
to evolve and better himself
One day I’ll meet a man who won’t run away from his emotions
and confront them head on even when it hurts
one day I’ll meet a man who’ll want to make me his
for the rest of his life without blinking an eye
and say I’m one the best things that’s ever happened to him
Life on the BPD 