Aqui esta la version en espanol:
poesía: gracias a ti
cupid gets it wrong once again-
bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month-
This time he tells me,
“You’re cool enough to make out with
but not good enough for my mom”
I almost throw my phone across the room
instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay”
and take a pen to my rage on paper
este poema lo escribí en el 2004 acerca de John. estaba bien amarga.
Alguna vez pensé
que tú podrías ser el hombre para mi
Pero eso se dio a perder
El día que tú me dijiste
Que no soy y nunca sería
Alguien especial para ti
Y llore y llore y llore
¿Por qué no me quisiste?
¿Por qué no me diste una oportunidad?
Para que puedas probar mi amor incondicional
pero ya no hay marcha atrás
Algún día te arrepentirás
Porque aunque tu desprecio
Me causó una gran desilusión
y no sabía qué hacer con tanto dolor
Tú hiciste lo mejor para mi
Porque gracias a ti
aprendí a sobrevivir
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
my aunt treated us like we were inferior and subhuman
constantly pointing out our flaws with subtle sarcasm
putting pressure on my mom to choose her over us
insulting my father or sister
what about us made her project her insecurities
Was it my dad’s intelligence or my sister’s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didn’t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my aunt’s abuse?
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
The scared and anxious little girl and the insecure and clingy woman tug at me-
I try to avoid them and lock them up in a box, but it never happens that way
They refuse to go away when a trigger of trauma visits me
And once again, I am lost in the alter ego I made up to protect myself
the one who shows up in confidence and screams through her poetry
but if I want to reach integration
I need to allow the little girl and the insecure woman space to reside within me
and honor them with powerful words of praise
because they, too, were part of my strength and resilience through the many traumas
It may feel painful at times-but for me to get to become a whole person
and reach emotional maturity – I need to walk hand in hand with the ones
who made me the powerful and confident woman I currently am
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Last Week
no se quien soy-esa es mi verdad
todos tienen sus opiniones acerca de quién soy
o quien debo ser
Madres, hija, trabajadora, estudiante, hermana y novia
son los papeles asignaron a mi-
pero me siento una impostora, una fracasada en todos esos roles
y sin saber quien soy debajo de las capas de estas identidades forzadas
sobre mi persona-
quien soy, quien soy, quien soy
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Running away from my feelings, running away from my thoughts
I will my legs to keep going as they start to groan
and threaten to turn to mush
the autumn sun shines on me and this should lift my spirits
but the gloom stay within as I run, run, run
Running away from my feelings, running away from my thoughts
I still hate everything-especially myself
Thinking of all my wrongs and how I’m doomed to a life
of solitary confinement
Will I ever fix what’s wrong with me?
and then I see it-a deer a few yards away from me
3 second glances are exchanged it runs across the road
away from me-
and something shifts in me
hope is awakened with a reminder of nature’s splendor
it puts everything in perspective
I am but a speck in the universe
a creation of GOD
It’s a waste to focus on past regrets and could’ve beens
I need to seize the moment of what is and what could be-
and I run on to the next chapter of my life
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Lost
Perdida en frustracion y desesperacion, no se que voy a hacer-
Por fin, estaba tomando pasos para un futuro mejor
pero de nuevo me encuentro con otro obstáculo por mi culpa
porque qué diablos no mire bien antes de salir en la calle
y en un santo amén perdi mi independencia
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
“This is your time” the moon goddess whispers to me in a dream
she puts her hand on my shoulder and a jolt of magic spread throughout my body
I stumble and almost fall-
but catch myself in time to stand up-and feel my power rise within
I am invincible, I am empowered, I am ready to fulfill my potential
and claim my success
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Dear Son
Quiero lo mejor para ti-porque te lo mereces,
porque tu no pediste ser parte de este mundo
pero la sigo regando con mis decisiones impulsivas
con mis estupideces
y no se como voy a salir de esta última atrocidad cometida
que afectará el futuro de los dos
Life on the BPD 