I wrote this poem in April of 2024.
my body keeps score even when I think I’m better
even though I’ve found closure and made peace
with most of my demons
my body keeps score on certain dates
and remembers unintentional trauma inflicted
and the great impact it had on me
great emotional earthquakes that shook
and broke the core of my soul
leading to breakdowns and breakthroughs
understanding and accepting who and what’s
right for me and what isn’t
I wrote this poem in April of 2024.
thousands of indigenous children never made, never born
Fujimori’s presumptuous superiority and cruel policies
caused this inhumanity, this crime against the most marginalized
the poorest
robbing thousands of women of their right to procreate
a shameful part of Peru’s history
thousands of indigenous children mourned
who were never planted, never had a chance to bloom
perhaps their existence was a threat to those in power
full of corruption, now we’re never know
I wrote this poem in April of 2024.
mami dressed me up in ruffles and pastels whenever she could
I’d swirled and twirled in my dress until I got dizzy
loved when everyone told me, “ay que bonita te miras”
and I awkwardly bowed, smiled, and hid
sashayed to every single one of my relatives
and did the same thing
it’s one of the few times I remembered being vain as a child
one of the few times I didn’t feel weird and like an outcast
external validation learned at the tender age of 8
It’s April again and it’s not only spring that is in bloom but also the creativity that goes along with it. And of course, it’s national Poetry month and every year since 2022 I try to participate in NaPoWrimo which is an activity where I write a poem a day and post it on my blog. I use prompts from this website for inspiration: https://www.napowrimo.net/ and as always I’m excited to see what crazy poems I come up with. Last year my favorite poem was a spicy one I wrote about Yung Gravy that I ended up performing at open mic.
my forever muse
Also, this year, I decided to give y’all my own original prompts to inspire y’all. Feel free to send me your poem and I’ll post it on my blog or you can just keep it in between the pages of your journal. I had a goal last year that I would post my own prompts for National Poetry Month and here we are. So here are prompts that I wrote sometime in early 2022. Here’s my contact info where you can email me or dm me your poem.
Hope y’all get inspired. And for my bilingual Spanish speaking baddies, I got another set of Spanish Prompts here:https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12443
An immigrant love song (swan song)
Privilege and luxury
A letter to my current muse
A letter to my future muse
What’s worth my time
Intergenerational trauma
Fairytale
The drug that is love
Writing is my lifeline
To my next victim
The work blues
The accident
My chosen family
Not enough time
Maybe I owe you an apology
The truth.com
Love looks like…
he killer of dreams
Exposure therapy
Destined for madness
Dancing
Don’t fall in love with me
Forgiving my younger self
My happiest moments
Searching for calm
I knew this was gonna hurt
Distorted reality
Death must feel better than this
I know how this story ends
Cover me with lies
What is the cure for a broken soul?
What’s something most people don’t understand?
here’s the english version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12311
clavos sobre el ataúd del futuro que quería
ni un príncipe azul
ni una casita propia y bonita
en vez miró fijamente al cañón de la pobreza
tratando de buscar algo brillo de lo que alguna fui
entre mis mucho sueños olvidados
I wrote this poem in March of 2024.
last time I had my last first kiss
it was wasted on a middle age scorpio
I wore a cute summer dress with red lipstick
along with my feminine charm
I didn’t have to lay it on thick for him to desire me
for him to want to kiss me
he would’ve fuck me I hadn’t been on my period
his hands roamed almost every inch of my body
as if it belong to him for the 5 minutes we made out
while I dissociated and pretended I was somewhere else
I was numb and devoid of feeling anything
Am I even a person?
He said things about how I was so hot and sexy
and how sad it was that couldn’t screw me
And I laughed flirtatiously following the script
I’ve had since I could remember
and I felt no desire or any pleasure
if anything I was repulsed
by him, by myself
hating how even at 40,
I was still pulling the same bullshit since I was 16
making myself an object of desire for me to play with
and then something snapped in me that day
a couple of hours after that date
I sent him a snap along with all the other 7 dudes
I was entertaining and keeping as options
the same message,
“I’m sorry, I’m not in a place to date or even
to have men as friends, I wish you the best”
it was hard as I had always been addicted
to men’s attention and validation
but something told me it was time
to switch the narrative
even though I knew it would be lonely
I wrote this poem in the fall of 2007 when I was depressed.
Scattered dreams
in my past
become failures
of my present.
Will my soul
ever recuperate
from the cost?
Will I ever be that
hopeful again?
I wrote this poem in March of 2024.
I hate it when I catch myself being unintentionally sweet
It makes me feel vulnerable and weak
It’s almost as if my armor of empowered Queen
is breaking and I can’t allow that to happen
I’ve come too far in my heroine’s journey
to allow romantic daydreams
to disrupt it
And I’m tempted to erase his messages
And block him
It’s not his fault or mine
It’s the faulty wiring in my brain
it causes the logic in me to short circuit
every time I talk to him
here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12220
agujas agudas de agonía penetra mi mente y cuerpo
me siento super debil
cubierta en una frazada de derrota
I wrote this poem in March of 2024.
you were a dead end street
that I didn’t see until
it unraveled me
Until it was too late
and I didn’t want to turn around
and kept going
and eventually I crashed
in the most magnificent
and catastrophic of ways
and I burned and burned
until I was ashes
and rose up in the most
spectacular rebirth
anyone had witnessed
since Jesus
this poem is inspired by the 2007 “veins”:
scared and desperate, I cling onto you
I learned early, solitude is a curse
and being alone is the worst thing
that can happen to a woman
this poem is inspired by the 2007 poem “fence”
for a while you were an a puzzle to me
always so mysterious
always so guarded
never talked about your past
even as I overshared my trauma
and while it got tiring
I still kept on trying to get you to open up
my mami didn’t raise a quitter
but nothing I did ever worked
you could never bring yourself
to be vulnerable
Life on the BPD 