here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Strange
me tienes en la esquina de confusión y desilusión como un animal
tratando de entenderte, siempre persiguiendote,
Viviendo de los trozos de atención y afección que me tiras
cuando te da la gana
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
The wild elephant visits me and threatens my sanity and I can’t breathe-
Waves of trauma hit and overwhelmed my mind and body
It’s time for fight or flight and I choose flight-
A few minutes in the bathroom when I count my breaths and calm my inner child
who is screaming internally because she feels unsafe, helpless, and scared
And middle age me quells her-puts on a blanket of strength and resilience
Tells her, it will be okay and she’s safe-and I’ll protect her-
And within minutes I’m back to my normal self-
go back to work and take out any remnants of my panic driven energy
on the product I have left to stock
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Eliza, eliza, eliza
what have you done?
Entering a beauty content you have no business entering
While you’re beautiful ,confident and powerful-
Beauty contests aren’t for you when european beauty standards
rule society
it’s not that you’re less than them
It’s just that your type of beauty is only meant to be fetishized
to be fantasized about
your beauty is a temporary place for men
your beauty can’t keep a man, only excite men
So while I’ll share the link
and every now and then remind people to vote for you
Remember your worth is not wrapped up in your beauty
Because you’re more than your good looks
You’re everything
Kind, loyal, intelligent, witty, sexy, everything a man can dream of
A woman a man can really love and be loyal to
You just haven’t met him yet
Trust is the process-trust in God’s divine timing
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I don’t want to work that extra shift but my discover statement
tells me otherwise-
it tells me that once again I’m falling into a world of debt-
for daring to live a life above my means, above my class
and if I’m not careful I can slip back into poverty status
so I’ll work that extra shift and stop trying to live
a higher class life that’s not meant for me yet-
I wrote this poem in October 2022.
Maybe I need a new love story-even if it’s temporary
so I can find relief and some peace from this loneliness
That’s making me into an insane mess
Maybe losing myself in someone else
Will stop making me feel less-
or perhaps what’s really happening
It’s me allowing my depression talk me into finding a solution-
for my neverending frustration with healing and growth
and always having to look within for what I need
But perhaps if I had somebody maybe for once, I could just be
I wrote this poem in October of 2022 with the help of Quora.
what do most people not understand about borderline personality disorder?
what are borderline psychopaths?
can you trust someone with borderline personality disorder?
can someone who has bpd have empathy and feel bad for what they have done?
does a borderline individual ever had a hard time getting over someone or
can they easily forget?
what is borderline personality rage?
what hurts a person with BPD?
why is borderline personality so contradictory?
do people with BPD act normal to everyone except the person they’re splitting on?
are people with BPD childlike ?
can unconditional love treat borderline disorder?
does a person with bpd make their partners go crazy?
how do borderlines show they love you?
do borderlines ever find happiness, hope or a genuine connection?
what does a bpd episode look like?
should someone with BPD ever disclose that to a potential mate?
when do relationships with PwBpd start to fall apart?
are borderline psychotic?
can borderline disorder be cured?
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: El Pasado
a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16-
as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love
as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off-
regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach
and I want to vomit
Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe
and I’m transported back to my present
I’m safe again in my body-
as I come to accept and love
the immature and impulsive girl I once was
who carelessly gave herself to others
who never thought about the consequences
and took risks
she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be-
she was just in a rush to live her life
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
To my sons, when I leave the earth
Remember I am with you always
I am in my oldest son’s resilience
I am in my middle son’s dark humor
I am in my youngest son’s bright energy
I exist in your laughter, in your cries,
in your failures, in your wins
I am and always will be with you
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Home
llegó al sitio de mi juventud y recorro en mi mente todo lo sucedido
dÃas de mi felicidad, dÃas de mi amargura
y todo me aloca al llenarme sentimientos encontrados
que se habÃan perdido en la esquina oscura de mi mente
pero poco a poco regreso a mi presente
y se que ya no soy la niña ingenua e engreÃda de ayer
ahora soy una mujer hecha y derecha
lista para enfrentar mi pasado lleno de heridas emocionales
que todavia sangran
lista para sanar todo lo que ignore alguna vez
es una necesidad para seguir adelante con mi vida
sin que los fantasmas de mi pasado mi sigan persiguiendo
y haciendo un desmadre de mi presente y futuro
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The transformation is complete
from caterpillar and butterfly
It was full of painful epiphanies that brought an epic catharsis
It was life changing and transcendental
Facing my fears, driving out the toxicity within
Acknowledging brutal truths, letting go of regrets
and embracing my divine duality
I’ve finally become the butterfly I was always meant to be
who flies and lands on her own terms
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
the nostalgia of Lima sets in
and I ache for the sights, sounds, and warmth
of my homeland-
even though it’s been a few days
I want to go back already
I don’t feel myself fully in American
my body’s here but my spirit was left in lima
maybe because the few memories I have of Lima
are happy and mostly pure from trauma
whereas in America
it’s been tragedy after tragedy
disappointment after disappointment
and while I’ve planted my roots here with my children
my spirit now resides somewhere in Lima
Life on the BPD 