this poem is inspired by this 2006 poem “risen”.
https://wordpress.com/post/lifeonthebpd.com/4529
I was ready to give up
Until I felt a sudden caress on my hand
you looked at me with desire, and I blushed
and our passion was awakened
from a year-long deep sleep
Is this a short-lived daydream?
or the impossibility of our new reality?
this poem is inspired by the 2006 poem “the light”
hope is found in a lucid dream-
It’s a whisper reminding me, “it won’t always be like this”
it’s my abuela telling me “tu vida apenas está comenzando”
and I wake from the fog of existential dread
I’ve been feeling lately-
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.
another new year is here
another season of my life
will soon be renewed
more chances for new experiences
and adventures
more opportunities to fuck things up
and give fodder to the inner critic in me
to emotionally beat me up
more time to question myself
am I doing enough for me and my kids
to prosper
more moments of joy and laughter
with my boys as they get older
and continue to find their autonomy
more grief and sadness as the working class
and marginalized communities
continue to be stepped on
more memories made that ignite a spark
of creativity within me
another new year
another transformation under construction
I wrote this poem earlier this month for a future version of myself. I wanted to end 2024 with a hopeful and romantic note.
lighting hits me and I’m in love all over again
this time I take my vows seriously
this time I believe in the whole
“til death do us part” bit
this time it’s far from perfect and ideal
but for once in my life
we’re enough for each other
and there are no seconds thoughts
that this is true love
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
just call me J.Lo without the ass because my ex
(if we can even call him that) came back to me
after 2 years of sobriety
we’re the low rent version of Bennifer
except we’re not millionaires
or celebrities (yet)
I’m just a working class immigrant poet
and he’s my ex whatevership Nordic muse
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
beast hurry up and come find me
it’s been a year since I’ve been married
two years since I had sex
and three years since I’ve been
in real relationship
I’m a thirsty and horny yearning
to break my vow of celibacy
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
erotic stories from my ancestors are still seen in the caves
and uncovered in archaeological digs
people intertwined in every imaginable position-
showing their sexual pleasure shamelessly-
it makes the American and Colonizer catholic girl in me blush and say,
damn, the Incas were some kinky people
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
I swipe and swipe on anyone who looks appetizing,
on anyone who looks interesting
and then the messages swarm in-
I must be honey to the bees who buzz and buzz around me
and I’m not impressed
Hey, beautiful says the guy with his catch of day
in his profile pic –
Are you DTF? Says the zoomer almost young enough
to be my son-ew-blocked
insert a pretentious line with a quote
From a Wallace Stevens poem , it’s the Genxer
who’s gross-ethically non monogamous-
I must not have been paying attention
while I was swiping
And the messages keep coming
And I’m overwhelmed by the amount of them
and underwhelmed by quality of them
and I’m nauseated and want to vomit
at the thought of giving any of these men
an ounce of my energy
maybe a past version of me
would have given them a chance
but this new and empowered version of me
Nah, none of them seem worthy
so I deactivate my profile
and uninstall the app
Understand I’m too evolved to find love online
and put my trust in the universe that one day
The right guy will find me
and I won’t even have to try
and until that time comes,
I’ll keep being an independent Peruvian Queen
Focusing on myself and my kids
without any mediocre energy
trying to intervene
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
It’s time to say goodbye to the notion of love
I know I’ve said this more times than I can count
but this time, I really mean it
lately, I prefer my life of solitude
the one where I’m my own hero, my own savior
And I don’t wait for anyone to validate my worth
it’s so calm, it’s so peaceful
it’s actually bullshit
the romantic girl in me can’t be cured
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
I listen to the universe without a hint of defiance
I listen carefully and with intention
to understand my next blessing
and the message is, continue to be vulnerable
with the world
you’re leaving a blueprint for the next one
keep leaning into your craziest and most authentic self
there’s someone somewhere who’s paying attention
and may be falling in love with you one poem at a time
but too scared to make a confession
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
Is it really so bad to assist others in ending their lives?
couldn’t it be seen as a final act of love?
to help them die with dignity and on their own terms
without machines and tubes delaying the inevitable
without anyone’s say over the little autonomy
they still have left
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
I had to give up a lot of fun things in my life
to get to integration
an alcohol dependency, a shopping addiction,
Relationships and sex-
and the last thing was energy drinks
This was all for me to become the mom my kids
always deserved
it was needed for me to meet my higher self
who makes decisions with compassion and love
Instead of out of ego
It was needed for me to start living
in the most authentic way possible
and while I could dwell on all
of the fun things I lost
I now look at it as a blessing needed for clarity
and to make space for this new version of me
who no longer hides her jagged edges
for the comfort of others
Who loves who she is and no longer
Wants to be anyone else
Who finds peace in solitude
and is no longer scared of it
my integration of self costs me many things
I was addicted to
but it was worth it for the woman I am today
for the beautiful life I’m currently living
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
with solitude comes clarity and peace of mind
I no longer rely on the actions of words of others
to validate my existence
I no longer feel like less of a person
because of the whims of others
with solitude comes an understanding
that being alone is the best way for me
to succeed in my recovery journey
because any extra energy derails me
from the woman of worth I’m becoming
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
breathing without a hint of romance is lonely but freeing
it’s a lesson of dialectics I never wanted to learn
it’s a lesson necessary for my recovery from BPD
it’s not good or bad, it’s what I must do to get better
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
the repetitive compliments, the gross flattery about your looks
no longer works on you-
You’re one “hey beautiful” from vomiting the contents of your lunch
all of these men state the obvious-you’re pretty
And they think it’s a way to get to closer to you
but you scream, “ew” and block them
it’s nothing against them, you just no longer have the luxury
of time to waste it on this type of nonsense to even think
about entertaining them
you’re outgrown that story
Life on the BPD 