Poetry: Temporary Cure

I wrote this on Valentine’s Day of 2022.

me on Valentine’s Day of 2022

I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me

Poetry: Sleep Evades Me

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I wish for sleep to take me away to a dreamless land
but I’ll take unpleasant dreams about ghosts from my past
just so my body can get a full night’s rest
But sleep evades me,it runs away from me
like a lover who lures me with a taste of love
only to abandon me on a whim
and I try and try and try to shut down my mind
but tonight an emotional triggers hit me and trauma visits me
My body and mind remembers the adrenaline rush
of emotional and physical wounds and it scares sleep off
I wonder what to do next and get angry at my traitorous body
but I remember-trauma is complex and while most of it has been processed
There are still remnants that come out to be seen, to be addressed
And I end up here with the nightmare of insomnia that won’t let me rest
And while it’s scary I remember it’s also temporary
eventually my body has to give in and I’ll fall asleep

Poetry: Borrowed Time

How does death change your perspective?

word press prompt of the day

lately I feel like I’m on borrowed time-

lately I feel like I’m not doing enough 

and  lately this fucks me up

so I over work, over exercise,

and over post

to make myself worthy of my existence

I want to make sure I’m leaving 

some kind of imprint, some kind of legacy 

behind that I’m remembered by

but it’s really me trying to please 

the inner critic in me

who comes out when I’m most vulnerable

in my grief

Poetry: Duality

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m constantly shunned from men who profess their love
when I show up feral and without a filter
They’ll call me their princess until I show them my wild
They always love me beautiful and submissive
and they leave when I get assertive and subversive
They feel deceived when they fall for a polite princess
And somehow end up with an amazon Queen
Maybe it’s the Incan in me who can’t reign it in
They say, “you’re too much, you’re too crazy”
Is there a man out there who can handle my duality?

Poetry: Restless and Unsettled

Aqui esta la version en Espanol:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/17/poesia-inquieta/

I am restless and unsettled
realizing you never loved me
I was just another girl to you
nothing special, nothing meaningful
just someone temporary to pass the time with
I’m growing tired of this repetitive story
Another love that expires when I ask
for something more
Another story that starts off with so much promise
only to end up as another tragedy

Poetry: Fighting

I wrote this in January of 2022. I was angry.

I ask myself this question every day

Fighting for my cause
I question everything I learned
I take time to pause
my childhood lies burn
and make feel lost

Fighting for my family
I get so fucking angry
Why are people so shitty?
insulting my ancestry-
projecting their insecurities onto me-
Wait, are they jealous of me?

Fighting for my life
I pause of a while
thinking about all of my strife
and the past I need to reconcile
to move forward with my life
but this fight is worthwhile

Poetry: Crossroads

I wrote this in January of 2022.

yeah…stop that shit

I’m at another one of life’s crossroads
trying not to make a turn for the worst
don’t stop but don’t go too fast
I want my momentum to last
I slow down and observe
and carefully ride life’s curves
and this time I really listen
and reach out to close friends
I’m not okay but I will be okay
soon I’ll find my way
I’m still grasping for a stable sense of self
and learning how to love and accept myself

Poetry: My Real Diagnosis

I wrote this in January of 2022.

if I had to be honest with myself

my real diagnosis should be “failure at love”
childhood trauma gave me abandonment issues
teenage trauma cemented it and added identity issues
combined with chronic emptiness
I couldn’t stand the constant void within
so I chased love trying to fill it
constantly sought out validation from men
to stop feeling ugly and alone
I’ve used them and they’ve used me
as band aids for our mutual loneliness
and when I start to feel sure of their love
it suddenly disappears
and all of my issues came back with force
with suicidal ideation entwined
And still I dusted myself off
and tried my luck with love over and over again
thinking each time it will be different
except it never is
they always tire of me and decide to leave
and once again my insanity hits and I break
Intrusive thoughts spiral in my head in an endless loop
“’i’m a failure to love,i’m a failure at love,
i’m a failure with love,i’m never enough,
i’m worthless, death must be better than this”
this was my tragic love story for 26 years
but on year 26, I said “fuck this tragic love story”
and I got the courage to change it
I’m not a failure to love, I’m not a failure at love
or I’m not a failure with love
I’m enough by myself, I can be alone by myself
and I turn into a success story of love

Poetry: Distorted Reality

I wrote this in January of 2022.

it’s so much damn work

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
anger brings out passive aggressive social media post
sadness tells me I’m worthless
joy makes everything seem magical
numbness makes me want to end it all
hyper-sexuality makes me want to fuck almost everyone

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
I get paranoid, mad, sad, happy, and horny all in one day
My escapes used to be fucking and drinking
But I got older and wiser
And now I run and I write

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
And I learned to regulate and control them
I observe, I listen without judgment
and I honor my emotions

My emotions cloud and distort my reality
but now only for a short time
And I’m in control again
I’m no longer a mess of destruction and chaos

Poetry: Love me out LOUD

I wrote this in December of 2021.

me in December of 2021

I’m not meant to be loved behind closed doors
or only at night or kept as your little secret
I’m not meant to be the mistress, the side chick
or your on call whore
I’m not meant to be devoured at your convenience in 2 hour increments
I’m meant to be taken out in public in the daytime
and introduced to your family and friends
I’m meant to be part of your relationship status, your girlfriend,
your partner in crime
I’m meant to be paraded and exhibited everywhere
but most of all I’m meant to be loved out loud

December Poetry Challenge: Everything Else is Bullshit

This is in response to prompt #22:Something all people should know

me reading this poem out loud at open mic

stop allowing the world tell you who you should be
embrace who are with all of your imperfections
being “flawless ”is a lie sold to us by a consumerist society
who uses our insecurities for profit–
the countless anti aging creams catered to women of a certain age
even more weight loss shakes and gimmicks targeted at everyone
feeding us a false narrative that if we are skinnier or younger
we’ll somehow be an almost perfect ideal of human
be whoever you need be to fit your own brand of happy
everything else is bullshit

December Poetry Challenge: Shadow Work

This was my response to prompt #22: Something all people should know

me eating my pizza contemplating making a passive aggressive post

Stop shaming your shadow self
trying to constantly shut it down
telling yourself it’s not a part of you
it’s been there since you were a child
acknowledge it, walk with it
Let it be seen, let it be heard
even if that sometimes looks crazy or weird
Let that bitch or asshole out
Otherwise it will consume you

December Poetry Challenge: Music to Listen to While You Crochet

Easy E,Tupac, and Dr.Dre calmed me down
when I was lost amidst a nervous breakdown
I couldn’t remember who the fuck I was
or where I came from
then I blasted some Gangsta Rap in my ear
and remembered who the fuck I was
I’m a Queen from the land of the Incas
raised in West L.A and Paradise
I’m made to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes
even when they come disguised as humans
that’s when I turned my grief into anger and rage
and knew I wouldn’t be “just okay”
I would make this my greatest comeback in my life story

Poetry: An Act of Rebellion

I wrote this in December 2021.

once you get your wings, there’s no going back

Believing in myself feels like an act of rebellion
after years of self loathing and self destruction
I finally feel enough and complete
Is this some kind of dream?
Do I really love myself?
Do I really accept myself?
Do I really care about myself?
I do and I do and I do
I’m ready to live out my truth
I’m complicated and complex
and not terrible or a hot mess
I’ve been forever misjudged
and thought I was too much
The reality of my authenticity
Brings out a new transparency
I was never too much or not enough
or even the hardest to love
I might be a complicated puzzle to solve
But I’m always, always, worthy of love

December Poetry Challenge: Will I Finally Understand?

This was my response to prompt #27: A book you want to read

Quote from “The Body Keeps Score”

Will “The Body Keep Score” give me the answers I need
as to why my body still feels past trauma
and why I still have nightmares about people and places
who has caused me harm?
or how when a trauma anniversary comes up
like the day I lost my baby or the day I lost my mind
my body feels extra heavy and my fists are clenched all day
Will I finally understand my body can still feel the pain of trauma
months and even years later when something catastrophic happens to me?