escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Como es ella, la que escogiste, la que quieres
la que ocupa mi sitio en tu corazón
¿le llamas princesa también?
¿Le llamas el amor de tu vida?
Le llamas angel?
Ojala que ella pueda apreciarte y pueda ser la mujer sumisa
que tu deseas porque tu mereces alguien que te traiga calma
y no una mujer caótica como yo
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I don’t recognize the woman I was two years ago
and I’m most grateful for that
always dependant and clingy
always insecure, always settling for the trifles of attention
given to her by men
and never confident to share who she really was
always suffocating her needs and wants for the benefit of others
the woman I was two years ago didn’t know
the magical and powerful creature she was
and how even despite her issues
she was a heroine in the making
escribí este poema en julio del 2022.
Cuando me respondiste en una forma desdeñosamente
Casi me morí
Casi perdí la esperanza y la fe
Pensé que me merecía como me trataste-
pense que fui una estupida por gastar mi tiempo contigo
pero después de un tiempo me di cuenta
que tu tambien tenías tus inseguridades
es verdad que yo tenía mis problemas
Pero usted señor también tenía las suyas
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I’m trying my best to find gratitude for this trauma anniversary
trying to let go of that catastrophic day
trying to quell the anger, rage, and grief, my body kept score of
it’s going to be a day of triggers and emotional dysregulation
it’s going to be a day where traumatic memories take up space in my mind
and body
the best I can do it try to take comfort that every year it gets easier
And some day it will be unimportant
that someday I’ll find a way to write about this day without breaking down
that someday I’ll forget that this day meant anything
but today I’m acknowledging one of the worst days of my life
honoring the rollercoaster of emotions that still comes up
and make me want to vomit
and find compassion for myself and the person
who drove me from the edge of my sanity
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Perdí mi razón porque me quitaste tu amor
Perdí mis ganas de vivir cuando te fuistes
Pedía que la muerte me lleve para no sentir
el más profundo dolor dentro de mi
me sentia que me hundia en una arena movediza
de amargura y furia
y no encontraba nada para sacarme
escribí este poema en Julio del 2023.
soy una mujer hecha y derecha
y merezco que me tomes en serio
porque si no lo haces
mis palabras dulces se convertiran
en armas de maldad
donde gritaré las penas y desgracia
que tu me hicistes pasar
escribi este poema en Julio del 2022.
Me pregunto si ella te hace sentir
lo que alguna vez sentistes conmigo
o si ella te llena de placer como yo alguna vez
lo hice
y una última pregunta
que tenía ella, que tu me dejaste
porque la elegiste?
Acaso yo era tan mala?
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
she thinks she should be thanked for flexing her confidence
clothed in privilege and luxury by posting advice to women
about how dining alone in a fancy restaurant is women’s empowerment
and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit
it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment
perhaps it’s because I’m a working class immigrant woman
who struggles in America
perhaps it’s because the rights of the marginalized and working class
are being ripped away from us
and on my social media feed, this yuppie and elitist bullshit appears
how can I be friends with this bleached blonde Barbie
oh yeah, we worked together briefly
and I almost start to comment with an essay on how she should
check her privilege before handing out tokens of toxic positivity
while people like me are drowning in debt and lack financial stability
but I stop
this barbie isn’t worth my time or energy
it’s time to unfriend and unfollow the marie antoinette wannabe
who only serves to trigger my working class rage
who serves to remind of the injustice and inequality
in this capitalistic and racist American society
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Demacrada y desconsolada estuve después de tu partida
No encontraba esperanza o fe aunque el sol
Brillaba por mi ventana
No encontraba paz o tranquilidad
Aunque estaba en terapia y tenía una vida llena
pero poco a poco, hora por hora
me levante aunque no quería
porque dios prendio una pequeña llama de ira
dentro de mi que se volvió en un fuego de furia
para poder sobrevivir él duel0 dentro de mi
que me quería matar
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I want to be dripping in velvet and have the problems of the rich
like finding a new pool man
because the last one got sick of my condescending and pompous ways
or cry because I’m bored and can’t figure out how to fill up my day
in a way that keeps me entertained
but instead I’m stuck in my working class cursed life
where my joints and bones ache in chronic pain
from constantly over working
where I’m constantly fighting to make ends meet
without losing my sanity
And constantly questioning my existence because of my suffering
I wrote this poem about someone I haven’t met yet.
honest and real intimacy comes with the passage of time
it comes with stupid and terrible fights
Where love survives
it comes with health scares
and encouragement as each person evolves
honest and real intimacy is not about consummated desire
that happens between the sheets
it’s not about butterflies and daydreams
it’s about saying
“Goddamn, this man is an oblivious and sometimes an
arrogant asshole
but I still want to keep him”
2/26/2024
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Por fin paró el dolor que sentía por tu ausencia
Por fin te puedo agregar a mi historia de amor
Sin resentimientos o tristeza
Por fin puedo cerrar el capítulo que fue nosotros
Por fin puedo encender y quemar todo lo que alguna vez fuimos
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
a text from an unknown number reminded me of my past
when I was sick with a love addiction
when I gave in to my impulsivity
when I gave my energy freely to anyone
who paid attention to me
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
As I let go of my self limiting beliefs,
I grieve the woman I used to be
so insecure and unsure of herself
so hesitant to take control and power
Overthinking and catastrophizing constantly
it held me back from living the life of my dreams-
Jealousy and envy filled me up
Scrolling the professional and personal successes
of others on social media
Thinking, “that could have been me”
and giving too much importance to the opinions of others
wondering constantly-
“are they judging me?”
It was a toxic story I told myself since the age of 16
and it continued on and on until one day in my middle age
I exploded and decided to fight my inner critic
and challenge everything I thought was wrong with me
slowly, I learned to turn my story around
Slowly, I went from victim to heroine
escribí este poema en junio de 2022.
Te dije que no estaba preparada
pero no me quisistes escuchar
Y insististe, insististe que yo era la única para ti
que tu me amabas
nunca me preguntastes sobre mi comodidad
nunca me preguntaste si estaba bien
mandarme piropos y fotos sensuales
Y cuando te pedí respecto a mi persona
me acusaste de ser otra loca más
Life on the BPD 