so I actually wrote this poem in December of 2022 after I got sick with COVID. This poem was actually inspired by the 2005 poem, “Here we again”- I was editing it to post it on instagram and something about it screamed turn into a poem about your ailment and this is what I ended with. God, my mind was extra crazy with COVID brain. lol.
Another unexpected surprise confirmed with the second pink line Is this Karma coming for me? for wishing this on my enemies this puts a pause on my life for a few days and I lay in bed in a fever haze soon I lose my sense of smell and taste I’m humbled and make a promise to the universe I’ll be more careful with my words and stop giving into my rancor
Cry in front of me and show me your vulnerable side I won’t run away or shame you for sharing your pain I understand what it’s like to be left alone when you start to drown in your emotions and you reach for someone and that person turns you away I will never be that callous when I say you can be safe with me, I really mean it
we were another lesson in love lost and mourned I tried everything to make it work even where it was past our expiration date I never wanted our children to be products of a broken home but even my best efforts could not fight how different we were or our long term story of incompatibility it wasn’t your fault or mine we were just both too stubborn to see what was in front of us a friendship that should’ve stayed platonic but you fell in deep for me and I was tired wanted to settle and we made it work until one day I realized it wasn’t enough
that time I cut my bangs cause I was anxious about seeing my crush…lol…thank God for my beanie
My heart betrayed me last night it was on the same page that I need to put any hope of love on hold Until I’m free of my marital ties- Until I’m no longer suffering of any residual trauma from my last failed romantic relationship but in one night, my heart betrayed my mind And it felt euphoria and everything that comes with meeting the potential of love And while my mind tries to reign in my feelings My heart says “sorry, we’re already in too deep”
I still wonder who Peruvian Me would have been-probably not wearing this beanie…lol
if my parents hadn’t chosen america as their new homeland I wonder who I would’ve been a woman of priviledge married to a man who loves me for me or would it have been inevitable for me to turn out as a rebel who’d cause many scandals would I have take my education more seriously because of the pressure from society and my parents or would I have still struggled with my ADD and said fuck it I wonder who Peruvian me would have been if I didn’t have a bilingual and bicultural identity
my favorite animal is a cat. I love them because they’re confident AF and mysterious. they’re also gorgeous creatures. I’ve also had cats as pets in childhood and for a short while a few years ago (that turned out to be a disaster-that’s another blog post-lol). Anyways, one of my most favorite cats was Mr.Jingles, this huge gray and fluffy cat one of the most recent exes had. For the back story, me and this ex were super chaotic and toxic. I think I went there for two reasons, one was to spend time with his cat and the other, well-that’s a story for another time. Anyways, Mr. Jingles had a big personality and always greeted me when I went over there. Also, my ex had him spoiled, and so Mr. Jingles slept in the bed with us also. He was so playful all of the time. He was a big boi, but that didn’t stop him from climbing everywhere. He could also be very sweet at times. I’ve recently been in touch with this ex(another long story, we’re friends now), and he told me that Mr. Jingles met his untimely demise when some dogs got to it. My heart broke in half because I was so fond of this cat. I hope he’s somewhere in cat heaven with all the good ones, including my cats, fluffy and slinky malinky.
They laid him on my breast and told me, “Meet your baby boy” and I was in shock the alien on top of me is mine? this wasn’t supposed to be part of my adolescence I’m only seventeen and some days I barely remember to brush my teeth and now I have this great responsibility and his beady and angry eyes questions as to why his comfort was disturb-he already hates the world and I think , same, kid, same
I go between contacts and glasses to fit my different personas- in my contacts I’m a pretty woman with makeup and a dress I become the kind of woman men are nervous to be around or get intimidated by In glasses I don’t care to capture the male gaze or even mine it’s when I work that second job or I’m at home it’s when I allow myself to just exist not caring about the pressure to be attractive or allow my social conditioning to take over and tell me since I’m this crazy, I need to be pretty, sexy, charming to validate my existence Lately I prefer my glasses, lately I want the freedom to just be
kid krow by Conan Gray-This album was on repeat in 2023 and it either hyped me up or destroyed me -it was wonderful
music and lyrics have always given me a sense of home- it’s how I’ve grown and evolved It’s how I learned to express my emotions when I couldn’t make sense of anything it fills my soul with love and creativity it makes me feel a sense of belonging in this world that looks down on dark and tortured souls it eases off my loneliness that sometimes makes me crumble and leaves me in shambles
if I’m going to be a mess, might as well be a hot mess
does someone have a voodoo doll of me and stuck pins inside my head- inside my heart-because lately I’m finding it hard to breathe as my emotions consume and control me- and I feel like the biggest failure and imposter for allowing it to happen even though I still function well enough to mask the mountain of turmoil and grief that’s currently residing me
Jealousy is a normal emotion of the human condition and shame shouldn’t be associated with it everyone feels it I used to run away from it but now I sit with it ask what it needs Sometimes it’s me projecting an insecurity or sometimes it’s a legit feeling And that’s okay too- and jealousy doesn’t have to destroy anything as long as I know how to acknowledge it and don’t allow it to consume me
An item of my youth I was incredibly attached to was my doll Dandee. I actually had two of these dolls given to me as a young child. The first Dandee was given to me by my aunt shortly after me and my family immigrated to the states when I was 5. This was in 1986. What happened to the first Dandee? Well, it’s a sad story of trauma. When me and my family first moved to the states, we moved into the apartment next to my aunt C and her family. The living situation there was not ideal. Actually that’s the understatement of the year. Here’s a poem I wrote about her:
Anyways my aunt C owned the apartment we were renting so she was our landlord. She was also the one who was giving sponsorship for our green card. At the time we immigrated, we had done so four years earlier than we were supposed to so we lived undocumented for four years. So my Aunt C took advantage of the situation because A) with a call to immigration she could deport all of us back to Peru and B) she was our landlord so she also held control and power over where we lived. It was a terrible situation. Aunt C had a massive 3 year old son J. He was probably one of the most terrible toddlers I’ve ever encountered. Aunt C would not control him and when he would bully me, either hit me or take away my toys, Aunt C would say, “dejalo, es chiquito” which basically translates to “allow him to do whatever because he’s small”. It was hard for my mom to say anything to her or protect me because of the living situation we were in with Aunt C. The best she could do was take me somewhere else. Shortly after Dandee was given to me, he became my most favorite toy in the world. He was given to me by my favorite Aunt Luz. That toy went with me everywhere. However, one day, Dandee was taken away from me by my cousin J, and he wouldn’t give him back. My aunt didn’t do anything to remedy the situation. According to my mom, this broke my little 5 year old spirit and I was inconsolable and cried and cried for days. My papi was upset that my mom wouldn’t say anything to Aunt C. He hated to see me cry every day for that damn doll so even though they really couldn’t afford it (it was an expensive doll), papi went to the toy store and bought a brand new Dandee for me. I was a happy child again taking that doll everywhere with me. Playing with him and my imaginary friend Calincha. Anyways, a few months went by and I was at my aunt C’s house with my mom. I was playing with Dandee and my cousin J came up to me and started trying to take the doll away from me. The adults weren’t doing anything and I got angry. My five year old self could not take the bullying from J anymore and was not going to allow him to take my doll away from me so I punched him and he fell to the floor. I wasn’t punished for it and went back to playing with my doll. My mom tells me that her and my aunt C were surprised by what I did and had no idea until that point that I had a temper. I was always such an obedient and quiet child, it was shocking to them that I had it in me to fight back. Needless to say, my cousin J never messed with me after that day.
So fast forward to 37 years later, that Dandee sits in my bookcase in my room next to the baby Yoda I bought for my youngest son a few years ago (that he didn’t want anyways cause it looked creepy). When I look at Dandee, I’m reminded of my fierce and fiery spirit at 5 years old that I’ve carried with me since then. When I told my sons the story of Dandee, my oldest son said, “Dandee carries your 5 year old warrior girl spirit” and that felt empowering to me. Dandee taught me a lesson in how to take my power back from a situation I thought I had no power or control in.
ask me how many fucks I had to give about UGA football…lol
we won the national championship and everyone is so happy and I feel nothing I graduated from UGA but never felt included so while I’ve pretended to care, I’ve always felt like an outcast in a town who cares more about football and idiotic art and bike lanes for woke and privilege white people than for their poor and marginalized communities
my granddaughters will love me even as they rolls their eyes at me- as I try to awkwardly relate to their slang and taste in music- they’ll be like “abue-that’s so special” and while I’ll know what they’re trying to say I’ll annoy them even more out of spite or to make them laugh my granddaughters will appreciate that I’m not like other grandmas
I wrote the poem above a year ago thinking about what kind of grandmother I’d be. One thing is for sure, I won’t be like my mom who goes above and beyond her role of mamacita and is the most wonderful grandmother to mine and my siblings kids. I’ll be different but in a fun way. If I’m blessed/cursed to live a very long life (which could happen because my grandparents on my maternal side have lived past their 90s), I want to be like my grandparents who had a very good quality of life until the end. I want to be as active as possible in my old age.
me with my grandmother in 2014
I also envision myself as a storyteller with my granddaughters gathered around me as I tell them about the olden days before the internet or when we had to take our pictures to the photo place to get them developed. I want to be as candid as possible with them about my misadventures in life and love so maybe they’ll learn from my mistakes and learn to have grace with themselves when they make mistakes. I want to be a safe space for my granddaughters when they have problems. I also want to be like my great-great-grandmother Mercedes who still smiled for the camera in her old age while holding her beer in her hand.
My great great grandmother Mercedes
It would also be kind of ironic if I did live to my 90s and beyond, considering how I’ve been romanticizing death since I was 15. However, at the end of the day, I do love being alive on most days and do try my best to be as healthy as possible to live a long live to annoy my loved ones, especially my granddaughters. I’m kind of excited to see what technological advances I’ll live to see. Like, will AI become part of our everyday existence? I mean, it already is part of mine with Alexa waking me up every day. Will men, gasp, finally do their part and take birth control pills instead of leaving it up to women to take responsibility? Will there be a magic pill for PMDD for future generations of women who can take it so they don’t go to crazy town every month? Will the internet read your algorithms so hardcore they erase any vestiges of anyone you have a falling out with from your phone/social media? I’m not sure if any of these questions will be answered, but it would be great if some of them were.
Life on the BPD 