I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Will your light illuminate the dark and negative thoughts I have about love?
or will you be another one who fill me up with more self doubt
and makes me feel worthless
Will you really mean it when you tell me you love me?
or will you leave the minute I lose my shit?
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
I welcome fall with open arms
looking forward to a new season
of changes
with the leaves changing colors,
cooler temperatures,
exhibiting the beauty of my curves
in sweater dresses
and everything halloween
I welcome fall with open arms
a season where much laughter is shared,
more poetry written,
and I’m filled with a brand new purpose
and determination to be better
I welcome fall with open arms
where I keep thriving in my solitude
and understand being single isn’t a curse
But a blessing instead
filled with freedom and love for myself
without owing anyone any explanations
for my actions or words
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Your butterfly kisses trace the small of my back
and as I lose control with fiery desire
you take me in your arms
and drown me in your love
until I scream
and then mark me with you lips
to let the whole world know
about your passion for me
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 have a yearning
to break my vow of celibacy
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
the sound of my love will not come with “I love yous”
or cute little texts with heart emojis
the sound of my love comes in loud waves of poetry
in the playlists I make dominated by Taylor Swift
and Conan Gray
the sound of my love is a lightning bolt
that will not be ignored
it’s me telling the audience
I hate being vulnerable but I cannot quell
the romantic girl in me
when she feels something and then reading
a love poem she wrote
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity
as I drink too much
as I search for someone’s touch
the moon sends the Goddess
with a message of awareness
and I wake up from my trance of self destruction
and start an inner healing revolution
my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified
it was my judgment gone awry
and I try respect and worth on for size
my beauty is not all there is to me
I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity
never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Lately I feel too big for my current pot
I need somewhere else to bloom
this is too comfortable
too stagnated
it’s almost suffocating
I need another place
full of challenges
and opportunities
I need a place where
I can full fill the extent
of my potential
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
I never did get my happily ever after
but I did get my happily divorced after
and a year after it was all done
and signed by the judge
I feel gratitude for solitude
and breathe a sigh of relief
that I won’t settle ever again
for fear of being lonely
never again will I ever allow
Societal pressure to write my life’s
Narrative
and never again will I stay somewhere
Past the expiration date
because of fear or for the sake of appearances
I never did get my happily ever
but I did get my happily divorced after
and life feels joyous and glorious
and I am the most empowered version
of myself
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I feel left out by my friends and I cry and whine
“they hate me, I’m not good enough for them”
my voice of reason tells me
“it will be okay, you don’t need them”
it’s my sister
I break down in the middle of the sidewalk
and cry and scream
“I’m unworthy of love, I’ll be alone forever”
my voice of reason tells,
“that’s not true, you just need to focus on you boo”
It’s my son
my voice of reason has comforted me and loved me unconditionally
my voice of reason keeps me from going under
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
the storms this summer have been intense and scary
Some days I had to run for cover, other days I ended up
saturated in self hate
the storms this summer tried desperately to tear me apart
ruin my reputation
everyone watched me waiting for me to turn into
a trainwreck
but instead I do what I always do
rise out of the ashes most triumphantly
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
pieces of my abuela bleed into my mami which bleeds into me
and I’m the vessel of the generational trauma inherited
and given the role of cycle breaker
I go against societal norms and conventions
and I’m always the odd one out
always the one who never belongs, who never fits in
until I find sanctuary in poetry, friendships,
and my own creative community
and while the trauma inherited still lives in me
I find a purpose for it as i share abuela’s, mami’s, and my stories
through poetry and slowly those generational wounds
start to heal and turn into scars
August 2009
In anticipation of the night
I was excited to see you
But then we met
And the look you gave me
said it all
without saying anything
at all
I had warned you
I had changed
But you refused to believe it
and held onto
an idealistic image of me
in your head
Worthless small talk ensued
Even though there was
nothing left to say
Your body language screamed:
“Get the fuck away from me”
But a small trickle of hope
cemented my feet to the ground
next to you
And then a sorry excuse
trickled from your lips
And you left me stranded
that night
The experiment of life leaves me breathless with rage
Why keep trying love on over and over again
when it continually abandons me
It’s like a balloon
I’m filled up with joy and happiness
and then there’s life’s pin of reality
makes my balloon burst
and I’m reduced to nothingness until I find rage
to fuel me to move forward
it’s exhausting, it’s madness
I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress
and failed every single time
I need to be the main character in my lover’s story
and not relegated to a dirty secret
the side chick that’s good enough to fuck
but not good enough for a relationship status
my love is immense and beautiful
and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it
I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy
I’m royalty and will treated as such
I wrote this poem in August of 2024.
a year from now things will be radically different
I will not be stewing in my misery and making poetry out of it
instead I’ll be more empowered, more creative than ever
instead I’ll be wiser and stronger understanding
the rollercoaster of the storms of 2024 was needed
to inspire another cathartis, another catalyst for change
the universe had to humble me for a bit
to remind me of what’s really important
to assess how I’ve been living my life
and whether or not the many hours were worth killing myself over
a year from now this will be radically different
I’ll have a deeper knowledge, understanding and clarity
about what’s in alignment with me
life will be more balanced, more full of joy
and with an abundance of everything that inspires me
everything that brings purpose to my life
Life on the BPD 