
Happy Halloween! What’s scarier than a regular bitch?


I wrote this in 2009 about Brad.

Rejection
Is an interruption
Of the infatuation
I felt towards you
Rejection
Is a profound sadness
With a river of tears
That flows down my cheeks
Rejection
Is a broken promise
You made
That breaks my heart
Along with the rest of me
Rejection
Is the start of learning
Who you are
Behind the facade
Of infatuation
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/30/poetry-pride/
Nunca sabrΓ‘s del dolor
Que sentΓ por tu abandono
nunca veras
las lagrimas que llore por ti
nunca descubrirΓ‘s
como me llenaste con agonΓa
Porque soy demasiado orgullosa
para admitir que fui una babosa
Por que tengo demasiada dignidad
para estar llena de miseria por tu culpa
Por tengo demasiado respeto
Para convertirme en un desastre
I wrote this in September of 2019 after I read somewhere about some politician making fun of AOC for doing the “Latina Thing”. It annoyed the fuck out of me.

Make fun of our accents-
Make fun of our names-
But yβall never have our rich history
Call us feisty, caliente, spicy
Call us fiery, loud, sexy
But yβall will never have the exotic magic
we carry within ourselves
Try to bully us into silence
Try to put us down
with racist and ignorant insults
But yβall will never have
our immigrant work ethic
or ingrained determination
Try to stereotype us-
Try to make us feel less than
Try to kill us-
But yβall never kill our chingona spirit
I wrote this in 2007 when I transferred to a 4 year University. It was a rough experience.

I feel small in this enormous and elitist world
it doesnβt seem like I will ever fit
It only seems like a perfect fit
for my younger, blonder, whiter,
and younger counterparts
Older, hispanic, and poor is not acceptable here.
Should I even try ?
When Iβm destined for failure on this institutionβs steps
Failure on the steps is what I feel here-
a place where my browner, poorer self
feels like an outcast, an undesirable- by the eyes of prejudice
I wrote this poem in late 2007 when I was depressed about my life. Again, instead of going to therapy, I just wrote a poem about it. Lol.

Tainted dreams
of life is what
I have left.
A career of abstract
nothingness lies
before me.
Chaotic and sensitive off springs
I must put before me.
Frigidity and
senility in my
marital bed lie
next to me.
Is this it? Is this
what is left
of my
foolish childhood dreams.
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?
This another poem inspired about the great breakup of 2001. I probably wrote this when it first happened. My sense of reality is shook up after a break up and it feels like a never ending nightmare that I’ll never wake up from after it happens. This doesn’t happen with every break up…just the ones that really affect me.
Waiting
So I wait for the phone to ring
To hear you say
this loneliness has all been a horrible dream
So I wait for you to show up at my door
To tell me you canβt stand being away from me no more
So I wait for your love letter in my mailbox
To begin getting back together
I wrote this in 2007 about my husband. I was frustrated that he was always so guarded with his emotions and his past. I hated that I could give him my vulnerability and he couldn’t give me his. Looking back now, I should have realized how incompatible we were at the time, but my stubborn and optimistic self wanted things to badly work.

A steel and locked fence guards you.
It does its job well.
Your insecurities and emotions never
come out to play with mine.
Your past never comes out to
join mine in a game of nostalgia.
Will your fence ever open for me?
I wrote this in 2003 about Damon who I was seeing again.
Your strange ways confuse me
One moment you hold me in your arms
The next moment you want someone else in your arms
Do you want to break our amorous ties?
Was the love you professed another one of your lies?
I wrote this in March of 2020 as I was reflecting on my suicide attempt in December of 2016. I don’t remember writing this poem but that could be because it was a crazy time for me since I was an essential worker during COVID.

Appearances were kept well for 15 years
the husband, the salaried job, the 3 off springs
I pretended like everything was fine
And yet there were ominous signs
I never felt like my authentic self
and always felt false
I tried on this so called suburban bliss
and mediocre routines
but knew it just wasnβt me
So I ended up in profound misery
And one day I wanted to forever sleep
To forget my mediocre reality
I took 15 numb feeling pills
one for every pseudo happy year
I wanted to slip into a forever dream
to never wake up to my false stability
I wrote this poem about my husband in 2006 when we were in a rut of routine and being parents. I remember thinking how hard it was at the time to reconnect with him.
Long ago…
Passion was lost
Where did it go?
What has it turned into?
Perhaps into comfortable feelings
Of gratitude and friendship
And boring things like that
But how can we find once again?
The long lost passion
That we once had.
Doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Rain on the pane”

Doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. The prompt was “Unburnt Pages”.
