I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
The invisible chains of my mental illness try to take away my joy
and enthusiasm but I shake off my chains
and live as fully as I can
Despite my anxiety,
Despite my depression,
Despite my BPD trying to grab hold of me
I no longer allow my inner demons rob me
of the goodness that universe has to offer me
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
I drove on a one way street and didn’t even realize I was doing it
until a kind pedestrian pointed it out
and I was like “oh shit” and cringed at myself as I kept on driving
and my brain invoked the voice of my papi
“Idiota, estupida” and my blood pressure spiked
and I’m light headed from the embarrassment
Middle age and present me steps in quickly to fix this
I keep going and find a parking spot
and step out still flushed from the verbal beating
my inner child just took
even after I fixed my mistake
the repercussions from the shame
are still felt in my body
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
I hold hands with my trauma and show her off to everyone
most people look at her with curiosity
some people are horrified
my family cringes and and whispers to me,
“it’s embarrassing, showing her as some kind of trophy”
I get mad and flip everyone off
and me and my trauma link arms and skip on our way
to share her story and create drama and chaos
who cares if no one understands our process
of healing and recovery by sharing our story
I wrote this poem in November of 2019.
He comes with false promises of respect
and easy and uncomplicated lust
He promises never to hurt you
but it’s all a game to get for him to get laid
He just wants to use you for a hit and run
Once he’s done with you
He’ll discard you like trash
He’ll never see you as a person
He’ll only see you was a receptacle for his cum
He’ll only see you as an object of lust
and at times he’ll even claim to love you
when he sees he’s losing the toxic spell he’s placed on you
but once he’s got you in his bed
He’ll forget about you the next day
So it’s best to stop his emotionally poisonous game
that leaves you always feeling worthless in the end
and delete and block his number
and forget about the fuckboy once and for all
I wrote this poem in November of 2023.
today I feel the presence of my ancestors more than ever
they praise me for breaking through the bullshit
that society tried to sell about what it means
to be a woman and mother-
they love me despite my many sins and that mistakes I’ve made
they scold me when I call myself a monster or an atrocity
they encourage me to continue on my path
they tell me to trust my intuition more
and to take more risks with my art and in my life
it’s a disservice to myself to doubt my creativity
this only hinders me from fully expressing myself
and keeps me from being authentic and honest
when I share mine and their stories
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Beneath the fallen leaves lies my footprints
and the footprints of lives unknown
on roads taken with regrets
Beneath the fallen leaves lies the stories from the trash
not picked up-a used condom here, a hair tie there
a letter lost
Beneath the fallen leaves lies everything unsaid
and tears that have fallen
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I’m not for the tender and meek
and because of that I might end up
lonely for the rest of my life
and before, it used to bother me
but lately I don’t care
I’d rather be alone facing the world
and my fears without anyone
who’ll judge me or give me
his unsolicited opinion on my life
I finally hold the reins of my autonomy
and I’m not giving that up for anybody
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
if we start this again
Boundaries need to be put in place
respect me and we can make this work
let’s keep it casual and leave our feelings
out of it
I’m not looking for anything serious
every time I’ve tried long term love
I’ve crashed and burned
so let’s give this a go
with purely sexual energy
there is no space, energy or time
for anything else
let’s keep things easy and light
devour me, fuck me like a whore
take charge in the bedroom
but not anywhere else
I finally belong to myself
and I’m not changing that
anytime soon
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
this time I’ll give myself permission
to let my body explore pleasure
with someone else
telling myself,
“This time I’m keeping it casual,
it’s nothing serious, it’s not a big deal”
I’m just ready to once again
share my sexual magic
write erotic poems about a human
and not my vibrator
it’s time to break my vow of celibacy
and let someone in on my sexual energy
I wrote this poem in 2005 for my creative writing classes. Idk what I was thinking saying they were better than tacos. BLASPHEMY!
Nachos and cheese
Puts my tummy at ease
that salty taste
is never a waste
It becomes addicting
Once you start eating
Cheese over nachos
Better than tacos
Nothing comes close
to the many ohs
that this tasty treat brings
that stops my mouth cravings
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I wasted too much time in comparing myself to other women
and blaming them when my exes chose them
and allowed my jealousy and rage to speak for me
Never understanding how they were all just innocent bystanders
in my complicated and chaotic love stories
I’m sorry, I didn’t know any better
and I wasn’t mature enough to take accountability
and it was easier to use y’all as scapegoats
when I lost war after war of love-
It was easier to say you won
because I wasn’t educated and white like you
In reality, I should’ve used my ammunition
only towards my exes
It was never y’alls fight to be a part of
even if some of them used y’all as an excuse
for their departure
I’m so sorry, anna, david’s ex-wife,
my ex metamours,
maybe my message will come to you in a dream
or you’ll see this poem in my blog one day
and be able to forgive me
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
the river of my love for you dried and at first I cried
but then it felt like freedom, it felt like happiness
to no longer obsess over someone who treated me like shit
to feel nothing for someone who caused me a world of pain
over and over again
Does this mean I finally learned my worth?
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
were we the bonnie and clyde of toxic relationships ?
you setting up and detonating love bombs in my heart
and making me explode in rage every time you left
and me encouraging you with every reunion
because I loved you, because I didn’t want to be alone
so I went along with your emotional crimes every time
Until one day, I learned my worth
and blocked your energy from my universe
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I cry over my fries while I write nonsense
because nothing makes sense
I’ve worked so hard to change my narrative
of mental illness
so hard to create a new story of strength
and resilience where I’m the heroine
but tragically I’m a falling victim again
to depression, anxiety, BPD, and whatever
the fuck else it is wrong with me
and I wish to make myself small enough
to disappear into a mist of nothingness
because lately it hurts too much to exists
Who are your favorite artists?
