trato de bajar la luz en mis ojos cuando estoy contigo y no muestro todo lo que siento por ti no te quiero asustar, no quiero que te vayas de mi vida Entonces juego mi rol de ser tu amiga fingiendo inocencia y intenciones puras cuando conversamos de todo y nada de la vida
take me on a tour of your utopia the one you always talk about the one where mental illness doesnβt exist and we all go to sleep without the need of meds and sleepytime tea the one where everyone is respected and being different is celebrated and not used as fodder for insults or war
no hay diferencia entre ella y mΓ‘rmol sus manos y pies quedan quietos y ella hace los gestos apropiados aunque nada tiene sentido en este momento lleva un volcΓ‘n de ira guardado dentro de ella mientras hablaban sobre tonterΓas y ella lleva una sonrisa falsa en su cara
me in my luchadoras gear ready to go into my second job
I channel the luchadoras before me the ones who had to work in the chacras to provide for their families, the ones who had to work with their bare hands to build generational wealth the ones who survived infidelities, abuse, and tragedies and still came out on top as Queens the ones who never had the option to lay down and princess to be doted on, be taken care of they had to become working class luchadoras for the betterment of themselves and their families
aol chatrooms serves her purpose for attention and validation slowly Lacy become a love junkie with a combo of low self worth and undiagnosed mental illness she never feels like sheβs enough so she uses her beauty and her body to search of wholeness no one thinks to stop her or monitor what sheβs doing online has plenty of dates with strange men in parking lots at 16, she feels on top of the world sneaking hits of lust After school and on weekends using her friends to cover for her never thinking of the consequences and always living for the moment
this is inspired by the 2006 poem, “did I ask for your advice”
well meaning unsolicited advice and opinions from others Made me feel like I was a failure like I wasnβt doing enough to better myself it always comes after a life changing event- a new baby, marriage, and most recently my divorce In my 20s it drove me crazy In my 40s I nod, smile, take whatever is helpful and move on
How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm fucks me up Before the algorithm makes me feel like Iβm not doing enough before I lose my shit and say βthis is bullshitβ and delete all of my social media apps How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm makes me feel better before the algorithm starts to validate my existence Before some random stranger slides into my dms and tells me Iβm pretty
my life flashed before my eyes as a fog took over my mind and body What would happen to my ex? What would happen to my kids? they canβt function without me Iβm the one who makes sure the rent and electricity get paid Iβm the one who always takes the initiative to better our family Iβm the one whoβs trying to break generational curses so my kids donβt suffer as much as I did my life flashed before my eyes, and I mentally prepared a list in my head of every one of my childrenβs milestones i would miss out on if God took me now and as the fog finally started to lift I thanked God for his mercy and understood the message from the universe I really need to take better care of myself my health can never be taken for granted Iβm too important for my family, my friends to learn to live without me this was my great awakening
another new year is here another season of my life will soon be renewed more chances for new experiences and adventures more opportunities to fuck things up and give fodder to the inner critic in me to emotionally beat me up more time to question myself am I doing enough for me and my kids to prosper more moments of joy and laughter with my boys as they get older and continue to find their autonomy more grief and sadness as the working class and marginalized communities continue to be stepped on more memories made that ignite a spark of creativity within me another new year another transformation under construction
beast hurry up and come find me itβs been a year since Iβve been married two years since I had sex and three years since Iβve been in real relationship Iβm a thirsty and horny yearning to break my vow of celibacy
I wash my hands of all my past sins my wrongs never defined me It was a toxic narrative I swallowed whole when I was addicted to suffering and being a martyr
the real tragedy is no one has gotten me this cake yet
ancestor, ancestor- which alcohol goes best with making shitty life decisions ancestors says, not the PBR, not the michelob ultra light, itβs too basic of an energy for the kind of epic shitty life decisions you tend to make donβt reach for the margarita wine either, too obvious, too much of a cliche and you already have plenty of them in your poetry Go for the Guiness six pack make your shitty life decisions with some English class since most of your terrible decisions tend to include some asshole whose ancestors are colonizer Englishmen
itβs the wild wild west inside my head itβs where my demons decide to come out to play they dance with traumatic memories making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface itβs the wild wild west inside my head being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic scaring away any potential love candidates itβs been a long time since I held someoneβs hand much less been in someoneβs bed Itβs the wild wild went inside my head And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave so maybe one day Iβm not so jaded so maybe one day I give someone the chance to take me out on a date