I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
for once I want to be missed, for once I want to be remembered
for once I want to feel valuable and worth effort
but it’s a fantasy I need to let go of
it’s a dream that will never come true
it’s time to grow up and plant my feet firmly on the ground
acknowledge my worth and hold onto my pride and dignity
and stop chasing delusions and daydreams
aside for all of the inspiration
it’s never gotten me anywhere
I told myself “no expectations”
“Just use him for a short time”
That’s all he’ll be good for
But his words, his gaze
His hands, his lips
Felt like home the first night
This can’t be happening
This can’t be real
This isn’t who I want to be with
But my heart wouldn’t listen
To the logic in my head,
The advice from my friends
I had the first hit and I needed to go back-
I feel like a pathetic drug addict-
I told myself “no expectations”
And yet a year later-
Here we still are in our
Intense and passionate love affair
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
saw you and knew right away there wouldn’t be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if I’m still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-she’s careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
waited for you at the bar as I downed a margarita
anxiety and anticipation sat in my belly
wondering if I could be your dream girl
wondering if this time you’d kiss me
Wondering if there would ever come a day
I’d regret meeting you
I wrote this in August of 2020 when
Thoughts in my head
race up and down
Thoughts about
my mediocre reality
Thoughts about all
of the failures in my life–
I want it to stop
but my brain-
my crazy brain won’t stop
SO I keep thinking
Is it just a matter of time
before he tires of me and leaves?
Will I ever reach that sweet spot
of stability and contentment?
Or will I always live this miserable
experience of dreadful anxiety?
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
everytime you disappear, I lose an ounce
of the fondness and affection I hold for you
this last time,I didn’t even notice
I thought, good for him
he found someone else to stroke his ego
and validate him
but here you are again
everything I once felt for you
has dried out
and I have nothing left to say
as you try to nonchalantly come back into my life
I’m filled with indifference this time
holding onto my new sense of empowerment
careful to not again fall under your spell
once again
Here’s a poem I wrote about being Peruvian American:
I am intoxicated
by his desire for me
He seems to accept who I am–
Wrinkles and craziness and all
and he doesn’t try to change me
He makes me feel valued
and appreciated and
that I matter in his life
Being with him fills me
with happiness, peace
and a joy I’ve never known
and for the first time
my heart isn’t filled
With anxiousness
of whether I’m good enough.
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
brown eyes
scorpio energy
takes my hand
I’m in trouble
warm rush of emotions
Unsurvivable
I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable
Blocked
Blocked from my phone
Blocked from my world
Blocked from being
The constant chaos
That torpedoes into my life
And fucks things up
If only I could
Block you from my mind
If only I could
Block you from my heart
If only I could
Block you from my dreams
Blocked from mentioning your name
My friends know better
If only I could
Block you from
My poetry and prose
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me to look pretty
even as I’m suffering, even as I’m cast aside
for someone else
even as I’m crying and dying from grief
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me about
all of the lovely and terrible things
that come with falling in love
at 9, Mariah Carey gave me lessons
about life and love
I’ve carried into my middle age
Virus
Loving you feels like a virus
I’ll never recover from
I lie awake at night
and thoughts of you infect me
I keep saying I want to be cured
of your love disease
that travels from my body
and into my mind
I’ve tried to find the cure
in someone else
But for some reason
your virus is resistant
It won’t go away
no matter what I do
I try hard to stay away
but it’s no use
The virus that is your love
is incurable
Virus
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
shadows of summer’s past came and haunted me
in dreams, in my most intrusive of thoughts
every summer tragedy comes to the surface
in spring
not allowing me to enjoy the may flowers
that are blooming
not allowing the visual poetry of spring
happening right in front of me
panic attacks, crying spells, dissociative episodes
bursts of anxiety and nightmares
that deprive me of sleep, leaving me in a haze
of despair followed by depression
and I end up in a fog of exhaustion I can’t
seem to get rid of
I wrote this poem in April of 2024.
Ostracized, alienated, and abandoned for being too odd, too much
cried a million tears over the same story
too stubborn to learn from the tragic lessons sent from the universe
naively believed this one will complete me, this one will save me
it wasn’t until my middle age, I had a great catharsis and said
“OH SHIT, I AM ENOUGH!”
I let go of my damsel in distress story
wrote a new story of empowerment and love within
the pages of my journal
Wrote and wrote like a madwoman until I found peace
and closure from anything that traumatized me
come to the conclusion
the only hero I ever needed was the woman in the mirror
Life on the BPD 