this poem is inspired by the 2007 “veins”:

scared and desperate, I cling onto you
I learned early, solitude is a curse
and being alone is the worst thing
that can happen to a woman
here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12198
por un tiempo eras un rompecabezas
siempre tan misterioso
siempre tan cauteloso
nunca hablastes acerca de tu pasado
aunque yo compartΓ de mΓ‘s de mis trastornos
y aunque me cansaba, seguΓ tratando
porque mi mamΓ‘ no criΓ³ a un derrotista
pero nada que hice trabajo
nunca pudiste ser vulnerable conmigo
this poem is inspired by the 2007 poem “fence”

for a while you were an a puzzle to me
always so mysterious
always so guarded
never talked about your past
even as I overshared my trauma
and while it got tiring
I still kept on trying to get you to open up
my mami didnβt raise a quitter
but nothing I did ever worked
you could never bring yourself
to be vulnerable
I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

at 17, the pregnant bride to be got a telegram from her groom
sorry, but Iβm betrothed to another and am getting married
at gun point
maybe it was the heavy feeling of rage or her aries nature
and hormones
the jilted bride with a silent fury went to her closet
and took out her ostentatiously beaded wedding dress
and with matches in her hand
she went outside and set fire to it in front of the family home
one of the younger siblings saw the insanity as the bride
stared at it mesmerized by fire that grew and grew
she walked towards it
all sense of reality gone from her
not hearing the screams from her abuela who ran towards her
and just before the bride step foot in the fire
la abuela shook her and slapped her across the face
until the bride reacted, let out a loud wail heard
across the farmland and fainted
I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

wonder how it happened-
the transaction between beatrizβ papi and luis
did beatriz have any say in her future betrothal
did she have dreams as a little girl
about her future husband
did she even love Luis or just tolerate him
because itβs what was expected of her
how did it happen
did she wish for a different life for her daughters
one where they loved their husbands
one where they were treated like humans
and not treated like cattle
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

I scream watching the dominoes fall once again
I donβt know who I am
I want to be this version of myself a while longer
ideally forever
but the universe has other plans
she laughs and says
βHoney, he wasnβt the oneβ
and Iβm pissed and lose my shit
go crazy for weeks, that turn into months
that turn into a year
until 13 months later
mama killa comes to me revealing
the last piece I needed to form a stable identity
and sends me back to my homeland
where I recover hidden bits of myself
and laugh like a child once again
where Iβm reunited with the mountains,
coast, and the city
where the universe tells me
βI told you so, you couldnβt have done this
with him by your side dimming your light,
you needed to be alone to embrace your magic
And find your real identity under layers
of american conditioning
and reconnect with your homeland,
it was the most important part
in your heroineβs journey to integration
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

lately I take the biggest bites out of life and flaunt it
in front of everyone
for too long I suppressed my hunger for experience,
for adventure
thought I was crazy for trying to explore my curious nature
So instead I took small bites here and there
thinking it be enough
but it wasnβt who I was
a little bird taking nips
naw Iβm a condor reading to pounce and satiate my hunger
my big ass appetite
ready to be satisfied
with the unpleasant and pleasurable things in life
Here’s a link to the original 2006 poem that inspired this poem:

the sky fell on me on that tuesday morning
when you ended me with a 5 minute phone call
for weeks I cried on the carpet
until I fell asleep
for weeks I wanted to fade away
into an abyss of nothingness
and even though itβs been almost decade
I still think about that Tuesday morning
the morning I lost the small piece
of innocence I had left
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

I still watch our video, we were so cute together
(sends pic of us naked in bed)
your pussy is fire
Iβll wait for you until you change your mind
I guess loving you is a crime
these are the things said to me by the men
I send to block island
exes and lovers who continuously disrespected me
and never could listen to my no
or respect my boundaries when we tried to be friends
one of them I had to threaten to expose with the story
Of how I broke his dick
the rest made me feel a deep sense of guilt
and covered me with toxic shame for letting them
near me
and I yell at that sick version of myself asking her
βWhat the fuck girl, what was wrong with youβ
she responds, βI was mentally ill and impulsive,lolβ
and I try to find forgiveness for all of us
trying to not victimize or villainize but the fire of anger
rises up and I hate them and me
for ever exchanging energies with them
the only lesson learn in this is
be careful, be wary of the nice guys
the guys who talk a big game about respect
and still make you an object of their obsession
theyβre the ones most likely to break you apart
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and paste
Partners, unhealthy love patterns, delusions of love
it happens over and over again
And I try my best to change this narrative
and sometimes it seems to work
but most of the time it was me denying whatβs in front of me
A man who treats me like his inferior
Allowing him to step on my boundaries
trying to keep myself small enough so he doesnβt leave
and Iβve lost count of how many times this has happened to me
And Iβm fucking tired of it
So I put a pause on love for a while
Until I can figure out how to produce healthy love energy
And ensure I donβt settle again for anyone
who treats me less than the majestic and magical queen that I am
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

Triggered trauma brings in a spiral of toxic guilt and shame
even if logically I know itβs not my fault
and I was just standing up for myself
Iβm still recovering from being a nice girl
Iβm still recovering from saying please and thank you
when toxicity was served on a platter of love
Iβm still recovering from compromising
my values and my true self
for the comfort of others so theyβd stay
Iβm still recovering from the most toxic
story I ever told myself when it came
to measuring my worth by how
others judged and perceived me
this poem is inspired by the 2006 “acknowledgement”.

a wolf in sheepβs clothing got to me
he pretended to be my friend
with endless compliments and fake empathy
Until one day I found out who he really was
a liar ,a psychopath
and I called him out and blocked him
from my universe when he said he didnβt do no wrong
when he said, he just liked his βprivacyβ
and offered no apologies after a decade long lie
which added to my trust issues
but at least it opened my eyes
enough to kick him out of my life
and while I still make poetry out of him
(he gave me too much material to ignore)
Iβm grateful heβs out of my life
life is too short for entitled Brads, Chads,and Kens
who think that just because of their privilege
they can get away with ANYTHING