Poetry: Puppet

I wrote this in January of 2004 when things were good with my husband but I was already having lots of anxiety about our relationship.

Why couldn’t he see 

that him and I were meant to be?

Why couldn’t he say

that I was more than part 

of his wild phase?

Why couldn’t I be all he wanted

instead of sending my heart 

to its deathbed?

I will never love again!

Why couldn’t I see right through him-

Instead I let him pull me like a puppet

on a string

Why couldn’t he see that me and him

would make sense as a we?

Poetry: Letter to My Former Lover

I wrote this in January of 2003 about Lucas. I was doing what I normally do, obsessing over past love because I was lonely. At least I wrote this poem instead of trying to track him down.

damn…a hard truth

My dear Luke
I Still miss you
Even after your unexpected departure
My heart feels a terrible torture
Of not having you by my side
I wonder if for me, you ever cried
Why couldn’t you stay?
Instead of leaving on that dreary day
Why did you have to go?
Nobody else could’ve loved you more
I know my letter may seem strange to you
But my heart finds it hard to replace you
I have tried so hard to move on
But it’s impossible to go on
I guess I should say goodbye
Before I start to cry
But before I do this
I gotta tell you my wish
that you find what you need
Even if it’s without me
And if you ever find yourself in love
Understand that you’re enough
and that you fight for it
Don’t run away from it
So now I say goodbye my friend
Maybe one day I’ll see you again

Poetry: Pathetic Games

I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Maybe he tried to come back to be an FWB and I got mad and that’s what inspired this poem.

Never

Why do you continue to be
such an asshole to me?
With your pathetic games
you make yourself look lame
You expect me to sit around and wait for you
whenever it’s fucking convenient for you
but I guess this is my fault
for letting us almost fuck
So now I have to tell you something
I will no longer be your fucking fling
So start to forget
that we ever met
Go on your merry away
and stay away
for i am lot more
than an on call whore

Poetry: No Clue

I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. I’m telling y’all when I get obsessed with someone I’m like the mild version of Joe Goldberg.

You had no clue
How I felt about you
Because you were too hard headed
to put us through the relationship test
because you wanted to be free
Instead of wasting your time on me
It’s really sad
But I’ll have the last laugh
Because one day you’ll realized
I could’ve been your ultimate prize
But now it’s too late
for you have offended your fate

Poetry: Lost Cause

I wrote this in January of 2003 about Lucas. I was still obsessing about him.

Your love was a lost cause
when it was her you chose
but at night I still toss and turn
wondering why it wasn’t me you yearned
Was it the hurtful fact?
You wanted to keep your life intact
Or was it because
I wasn’t good enough
To make the ultimate sacrifice
to leave your perfect and fake life

Poetry: Like Every Other Fool

I wrote this 20 years ago on November 1st right before the great breakup of 2001. I wish I could say that I get over breakups quicker now but that would be a lie. After fights or breakups with partners, I seem to always go back to the girl I was in my teens and 20s. My brain is wired that way and I’ve accepted it. It’s something called age regression that shows up in people with Borderline Personality Disorder. Fear of abandonment is so severe that some of us will feel like we are literally dying after a breakup. Some of us will stop eating, some of us will sleep for days, some of will self harm or have suicidal ideation. With each breakup, I’ve noticed I’ve acquired healthier coping mechanisms. Nowadays, I’ve learned to listen more to what I need in order to heal than what doing what I used to do to escape the pain of heartbreak. My method now is cut off all contact with the ex, exercise, write a LOT and do loads of self care. I’m careful not to fall into any quick escapes from my feelings like going on tinder and trying to find someone new. Do I think I will ever get better at accepting a breakup like a normal person? I don’t know but I hope so. While I’m thankful for all of the inspiration and growth that comes from every breakup ;it’s also very overwhelming, exhausting and draining at times.

❤❤❤

You showed up unexpectedly in my life
Like a pleasant surprise
Calling and seeing me every day
Making me dinner
and leaving me roses on my dashboard
I thought “finally, the one has come”
Suddenly all of those nice things
started becoming scarce
The dinners, the roses, seeing me
became non-existent
Even talking to you on the phone
has become too much of a bother of you
I’m no fool, I know exactly
where this doomed thing is headed
Pretty soon you’ll give me some lame excuse
As to why “we” can no longer be
And my heart will shatter
into pieces yet again
There will be nothing left to say
I’ll just realize once again
You’re just like every other fool

Poetry: Drunk and Blue

I wrote this on January 1st, 2003 about this dude that I hooked up with a week prior. I was upset about John and of course wanted to escape from my feelings of rejection. So I started once again seeking validation from men and ended up hooking up with some guy from the bar.

So true

The night I met you
I was drunk and blue
Because of that impossible love
Who said I wasn’t good enough
So I decided to drink my pain away
and then you came my way
With your charming and smooth manner
I should’ve known you were a player
But you told me everything
That I wanted to believe in
How you had never met anyone like me
And that you wanted us to be
It sound almost too good to be true
But i was feeling lonely too
So i decided to give in to you
Afterwards you promised to call

But instead you went awol
And many days later I sit here
In a river of foolish tears
Wondering why why why
I always fall for the same false lines

Poetry: Crooked Turn

I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Guess I was still mad at the rejection I felt when he ghosted me.

It’s like that sometimes

If I was nothing more
Than another girl
Why couldn’t you have been straight
Instead of acting in an enamored way
And made me really believe
You truly care for me
but I should have known all along
that you’d be the same jerk song
Hopefully one day I’ll learn
to stop taking all you crooked turns

Poetry: Control Myself

I wrote this poem in 2019 when I got into a fight with a friend because he was cruel to one of my friends. After this fight, we didn’t talk for 2 years but we ended up reconnecting in the summer of this year.

random pic of me pissed in 2019

Control myself, he said

As I called out his misogyny

His fragile ego couldn’t handle

hard truths thrown at him

He thinks that he has a license to offend

Because of the organ between his legs

and the pale color of his skin-

He thinks that I’m wrong 

for not sitting still and silent

He thinks that I have no right 

to stand up for myself 

Control myself, he said 

and “fuck off” I reply to him

you won’t even be able 

to control a woman like me-

Poetry: Nothing More

I wrote this in December of 2002. Towards the end of the year, I was depressed abotu dating and romance. I hated feeling like I was always just used for fun, objectified, and then discarded like trash. .

exactly

Now that I know
That between us
Can me nothing more
Than a story of pure lust
I feel so dumb
And wonder once again
If it’s possible to go numb
From all of the jerks that are so damn lame
You fucking jerks that don’t want to see past
Me being a great piece of ass
And I ask myself these questions
What does it take for someone like me?
To find someone that will make me happy
To find someone who doesn’t use me just for fun
But maybe it’s okay
Maybe this is just my fate

Poem: The Objectification of Eliza

I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.

Often men want this girl…the ones that’s always down for a “good” time
BUT run away from this one….the other girl …the vulnerable one that has a realness hard to accept

Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy

Tell me I’m beautiful

Objectify me, fuck me, 

Forget about me

And then

Try to come back to me

And when I deny

your lust filled request,

Put me down, threaten me

Try to hurt me-

Your words mean nothing to me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last

Who tries to destroy me

You’re not the first 

But will be the last 

Who treats me like a doll

to fuck at your convenience

You’re not the first

But will be the last

That tells me I’m not good enough

Tell me you miss, tell me you want me

Tell me you’re sorry

Be persistent in your quest

In trying to get me in your bed

with empty promises

about how this time it will be different

Sorry to my past, my present, and

future lovers-

I am pass being the girl

that’s just used for fun-

I am pass being the lover

you never introduce to your mother

I’d rather live in a world 

of solitude and calm

than to once again fall

into the objectification trap 

Poesia: Falsa Esperanza

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.

Pero fue lindo

Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar

Poetry: Stupid Game

I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.

2002 was such a rough year for love

I hate playing this stupid game
Called dating
Trying to decide
Which move to make
So you can have him at checkmate
It’s no longer about falling in love
Or even real feelings
But it’s about winning
So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice
I don’t dare give in to this yearning
To want to call him
Because then they’ll almost be winning

Storytime : Matt and the First Andrew

me in 1997 when this story happened

To tell the story of the first Andrew, I need to first tell the story of Matt. Matt is my son’s oldest bio dad. Matt has been one of my muses for a lot of my poetry. Matt has also been one of the reasons for why abandonment is such a trigger for me. I won’t say that Matt ruined my life because my son is wonderful and amazing. Matt is just one of the reasons my life has been well, so complicated. I met Matt in an AOL Chat Room when I was 16 and he was 21 in November of 1997. When we first started talking, he pretended to be 19 and going to the University of Hawaii. He was charming and I got this ego boost that an older guy would take an interest in me. Eventually we decided to meet up after a couple of weeks of chatting. I had just started working at Sears so I got the idea that we could meet there after my shift. Well, we met after my shift and he showed up in his friend’s car with his friend. 16 year old naïve me got into his car and then he told me the real truth about himself. The truth was that he was 21 years old and in the Army. He lied to me because he didn’t think I’d talk to him if I knew the truth. I didn’t know what to say. I mean yes, he sounded sketchy but I was stuck in the car with no way out. He then told me that we were going to a friend’s party on base and to lie about my age and say I was 18. Looking back now, I’m lucky that I didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. We made it to this party and it’s awkward as fuck for me cause I’m awkward as fuck and I didn’t imagine that after 2 weeks of buildup conversation with Matt, our first date was going to be this-a party full of strangers who are drunk, happy ,loud as fuck singing karaoke. I’m miserable but try to my mask my social anxiety by a lot of smiling and nodding . After a few minutes, Matt notices my discomfort and offers to get me a drink. He comes back with a Heineken . I’m still trying to impress Matt and I tell him it’s my favorite drink and try to drink it as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to . So he takes me to the back and we make out. I try to put the brakes on what’s happening. He tells me that I won’t hear from him if I don’t put out. In my head, I still want Matt to like me and suddenly we’re in the back seat of his friend’s car with him hooking up. Him and his friend take me home afterwards.

I saw him again the following weekend and he sneaks me into the barracks where I spend the night. I won’t go into specifics but we’ll just say we had amazing chemistry and it was a night to remember.

Schofield Barracks where mine and Matt’s story takes place

Here are a couple of poems I wrote about that night:

Poetry: That Night

Poetry: Lust at First Sight

Afterwards he ghosted me and I got mad and I wrote this poem:

Poetry: The Liar

However, I’m not one to stay down for long and I decided to meet another guy I had been talking to online (AOL Chat room of course) for a few months. His name was Jeremy and he was 16 . We had grown close in our online friendship but I had never seen a picture of him. Our friendship was nice, he made me laugh and constantly complimented me. He asked me to go with him to his school’s military ball that would take place in Mid December. I agreed to go. He picked me up from my house and when I saw him, he wasn’t who I pictured him to be and well there was zero chemistry but now I was stuck in this awkward situation with this dude. Idk why I kept getting myself into these situations aside from the fact that I was 16 and really didn’t make the best choices (lol). So we get to the dance and he introduces me to his friends, I don’t remember the names of all of them but I remember meeting Andrew, his best friend. I call him the first Andrew because there was a second Andrew that comes many, many years later in my story of love and lust. Anyways, I’m with Jeremy most of the night but he takes a break to go to the bathroom and well I start talking to Andrew and I don’t mean to sound corny but the attraction and chemistry between both of us was electric that night. I don’t want to say it was love at first sight but it sure felt like it and we exchanged phone numbers. I remember even dancing with Andrew and feeling this strange feeling of magic. If this had been a telenovela where the main character meets her soulmate, there would be some sappy Spanish love song playing . Me and Andrew, well, we had the Sugar Ray song “Fly”…oh I miss the 90’s sometimes. Lol.

After the dance me and Andrew connected through the phone and AIM (short for AOL Instant Messenger). As we talked more, we realized there was definitely a connection there and we wanted to explore it and we went on a first date and it was absolutely wonderful filled with these sparks inside of me that felt like electricity. And he liked me too. A lot. He wasn’t like the other guys I had dated before. I mean guys like Matt were attractive and all but Andrew felt like something special and unique to me. He lived on the other side of the island by the beach so we had romantic dates at the beach and of course the mall because we were teenagers. The bus ride to see him was about an hour and hour each way but I didn’t care. To me, he was worth it. And he got lost in me too. It was strange and felt absolutely like a movie kind of love. The feeling was really mutual this time and while we lived far away, somehow we made it work for 4 months.

Kailua Beach where some of our dates took place

There were of course a few wrinkles in our storybook romance. Jeremy -his best friend and my close friend had “fallen in love” with me after meeting me in person. This meant that we kept our budding romance a secret from him. It was rough and we both felt so guilty. Eventually I had to tell Jeremy that I was dating Andrew when Jeremy professed his love to me one night. After I told him the news, Jeremy didn’t take it well at all and said that he was holding a knife to his wrist and he was going to take his life because I didn’t love him. I don’t know how but I talked him down from the brink. It was really hard on me that I had caused him so much pain and I felt absolutely horrible and responsible for his pain. I honestly don’t know why Jeremy still kept being my friend after this and it was so awkward but somehow our friendship made it. The other wrinkle was that I was missing something very important that month-my period. I was somehow able to get in touch with Matt and tell him my dilemma and he told me he would give me the money to take care of it if I was pregnant. I was in this weird place of shock and awe. My parents had made sure to shelter me so much from the world that things like abortion or teen pregnancy weren’t really talked about. In fact, my Catholic parents were very much about abstinence education only. I also felt awkward about going to the drug store to get a pregnancy test at 16. A few days after talking to Matt, I started spotting and thought it was my period. I had also heard that girls have irregular periods sometimes so I convinced myself of that I. I was adamant that NOTHING would interfere with my love story with Andrew.

true story

From January to April, my romance with Andrew grew and it was filled with so much intensity, chemistry, and connection. He was cute and so intelligent and not at all like the other shallow guys I had dated before. We would have these 2 or 3 hour long really deep and profound conversations. We couldn’t get enough of each other but I was way more obsessed. Around this time, I also noticed I was gaining weight so I figured I would start exercising and really limit my calorie intake (hello almost eating disorder). Anyways, I got so obsessed with him, I started skipping school on a weekly basis to “surprise” him at school when he got out. Yes, I took an hour and a half long bus ride for “love”. And people asked me why I relate to Joe Goldberg-lol.


I fell so deeply “in love” with Andrew, all I thought about was him and only him. It was crazy but I was also a pregnant teenager who was denying her pregnancy to herself at the time. Andrew was also really into me as well, He was so into me that his grades started slipping bad really bad. This was bad for him considering the fact that he really needed a JROTC scholarship for college. He gave a shit about his future while I didn’t give a shit about mine. So one day in April he called me and told me he had to break up with him because his mother said I was too much of a distraction and blamed me that his grades had slipped. I was shocked but didn’t cry and told him okay. We didn’t do the whole “let’s be friend bs” cause we both knew how horrible it would be for both of us. Even at 16 and 17, we both knew better. Jeremy told me that it was really hard on him and he was upset for a while. And I, I fell apart. I’m not sure if I had BPD at the time this happened but I was so deeply hurt, I wanted to die and stayed up at night and wondered which way would be the least painful to take my life. I also remember crying on my bedroom floor playing Mariah Carey’s “Love Takes Time” or Luis Miguel’s “Historia de Un Amor” on repeat.

dramatic much
bien dramatica

I was borderline almost depressed catatonic when it happened. Usually, after a breakup, I would find a way to being strong and find anger within and be like “fuck this dude” and give myself a pep talk of “I’m a strong Peruvian Woman” , I’m going to write some angry ass poetry or stories ; this time it didn’t happen. The first Andrew has been one of my few exes to escape my scathing and salty angry poetry. It could have been a combo of the pregnancy and teenage hormones and the fact that I felt like I had lost the love of my life. I just felt absolutely in the pits of despair and devastation and my friends and parents tried their best to take me out of it. Nothing worked though. I still went to school but I was a zombie. I functioned enough so that my parents and friends didn’t press me too hard about how “I needed to get over it and move on”.

I wouldn’t know what that’s like

The one thing that brought me out of my almost catatonic depression were the flutters in my stomach I was starting to feel. That is, however, a story for another time.

for real

To make a long story short, I did manage to contact Andrew a few years later after I found out that Jeremy had told him about my pregnancy and we did make amends. He forgave me for lying to him and I forgave him for breaking my heart. I was still kind of slightly Joe Goldberg obsessed with him years later and looked him up every now and then when the nostalgia hit. For some reason, years later, he stayed on my pedestal for a while. One day, I finally realized he was just a 16 year old dude in love who knew how to treat me with the love and respect I needed at the time. He was the first guy that I really felt deep and intense feelings for. He was great but he was just another chapter in my book of lust and love.

one reason I keep telling my story