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Poetry: My Pride and Joy

I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.

me and my oldest in 2003

You’re a wonderful mistake

I never want to unmake

I was young and stupid

a kid having another kid

but with you I finally grew up

and learned the meaning of love

You are everything a mother could want

Such an admirable and fine son

you are my pride and joy

you will always be my little boy

And I will dread the day

When you have to go away

But I take relief in knowing

You’ll know how to spread your wings

And you will always remember

who you once were

A wonderful mistake

Your mom never wanted to unmake

Perhaps a creation of lust

but one who never lacked love

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Poetry: The Horsefly Stands on Her Shrug

I wrote this in 2006 for my creative writing class.

The Writer Life

The horsefly stands on her shrug
Doesn’t notice, doesn’t care
Blankness spilled across her pleasant face

The horsefly stands on her shrug
Not even a crumble of emotion
In her still hands and feet

The horsefly stands on her shrug
No longer is there a distinction
Between her and the marble

The horsefly stands on her shrug
The sun slowly starts to simmer her
As her wires start to show

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Poetry: Free

I wrote this in 2006 when I was frustrated and fantasized about leaving my husband.

deserving better

What if I don’t think?
About our precious link
And decide to go
Without letting you know
And let you wake up
Free of our never ending rut

What if I don’t feel your love
And am no longer good enough
And continue to fight for us
And leaving you becomes a must

What if I choose to be free
and leave you abruptly
and live my life without you
because I finally learned my value

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Poetry: Lame

This is another poem about the bio dad of my oldest son. Obviously I had a lot of anger directed at him that I should have gone to therapy for but instead I just wrote a lot of angry poetry. Ha.

me and my oldest son in 2006

You don’t know him and chances are 

 You never will

You could’ve been somebody real in his life

But you BLEW IT! 

So now is the time to say 

Goodbye forever. 

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Poesía: Otro Idiota Mas

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/08/30/poetry-another-pathetic-guy/

se necesita aguantar bastante mierda

escribo otro poema patético
acerca de otra idiota mas
no estaba impresionada
desde la primera conversación
con lo pretencioso que eras
pero todavía decidí en darte
una oportunidad
nunca pensé que me harías
sentir como una ignorante
Nunca sentí tanta repulsión
contra un hombre
Nunca habrá un futuro
entre los dos

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Poetry: Caught Between

I wrote this 2001 when I took a break from writing angry breakup poetry-lol. As an immigrant that grew up here, I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life. Issues with identity are also another trait of BPD. I think this was a time in my life when I was especially reflecting on this part of my identity because I was become aware that men were fetishizing me.

me in 2001 around the time I wrote this poem

Caught between two worlds
what am I made up of more
hopefully I won’t ever have to choose
sometimes I wish to just cut loose

Too Latina for the American side
Too Americanizada for the Latino side
So what is the politically correct term for someone like me?
Not American, not born here
Not fully Latina either
for I lack that latin allure

So I’ll call myself one of a kind
a girl with much Latin beauty and an American mind
like a delicious half and half cream
whose taste is an amazing mixed dream

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Poetry: My Pathetic Little Beast

Me in 2006 when I wrote this poem

I wrote this poem in 2006 about my tumultuous relationship with writing. I love to write and it’s saved me more times than I can count. However, I tend to beat myself up if I’m not writing enough.

Instead of tears from eyes that long to spill,
I will spill words onto these pages.
Words that make sense,
Words that don’t make sense,
Many are in fact nonsense
I will let my emotions, the wind
And my surroundings guide me until
I fill up these pages
Full of nonsense, prose,
Poetry, ideas, and everything I can think of
This will be a new phase
this new phase will be full
of promise and potential
And it will also be full
of what I hope is the inspiration
that leads me to share my relationship
to the world.
this will be my fourth baby
Another one I will nurse and raise until it is
As beautiful and complete as my
real life ones.
This is the promise I make to
my pathetic little beast.

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Poesía: El Miedo

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/15/poetry-scared/

Es difícil ser mágica

Tengo miedo
que de nuevo se rompa
mi corazón
Estoy preocupado que algún día
me pares de amar
Estoy cansada después
de tantos mentirosos
tengo cuidado que de no
convertirme en una idiota
otra vez