I wrote this in January of 2022 when I was depressed.
I welcome death to take me away tonight- death must be better than the anger that has made an eternal home in me death must feel better than this emptiness that lies in my heart death has to be better than this sorrow that floods my pillow with tears continuously death would be better than my emotions that threaten to consume me
This was my response to prompt #23: What’s you’d really like to do tomorrow
Tomorrow I’d like to swim for the first time in my former paradise and after lay out in the sun in my bikini I’ve loved feel the sand everywhere instead of tolerating another dreary and rainy day in Georgia My mood would improve and I would write more happy poems Instead of writing about how I hate my existence and everyone and everything in it
Why did you break our romantic ties? What did she have to make you leave me suddenly? Why do I keep repeating the same stupid story, of finding myself the woman used and scorned? I’m fucking exhausted with rage always making the same mistake over and over again giving all of my myself to another confused man who leaves me when I’m no longer easy
This is my response to prompt #16: Your favorite household chore
Springtime is here, it’s my favorite time of the year I blast out music from Alexa and start de-cluttering Anais Nin books I’ll never read go into the donation box her life no longer inspires me Dresses and outfits I wore to my trauma are packed in a suitcase destined for Lima Dozens of therapy sheets are recycled I finally found calm and serenity Springtime is here and it’s to get rid of everything that no longer fits this new version of me
This is my response to prompt #10: One thing you could not give up
You might as well do radical lobotomy before you make me give up writing You’d be asking me to give up one of the things I most love– my creativity with poetry and prose brings me purpose and meaning on my good days and helps me stay alive on my bad days so if you ever ask me to give up my paper and pen Understand you’d be asking for my slow death
Recibir esa llamada infame mato mi calma e ego descubriendo que había sido engañada por el que me profesaba amor Me hizo perder mi cordura ¿cómo pudiste hacerme esto? Fuistes otro desastre lleno de duplicidad te odio con todo mi corazón por destrozar todo lo que éramos
I wrote this in December 2018 when my husband forgot our 8 year anniversary. Iguess I was a little salty and kind of still processing the breakup of our marriage.
He forgot our 8 year anniversary I didn’t remind him because it didn’t really matter. Hopefully, this time next year, we will be divorced. There was no use in feeling sad or spilling tears Over something that would end soon. There was no use in feeling devastated over Something that never should have happened. Vows that should never have been taken. Promises of love that were doomed from the beginning. Empty words that were never believed in. 8 years of marriage; an institution we thought would bind us for eternal life. So that maybe the sting of resentment and neglect wouldn’t break us apart. He forgot our 8 year anniversary Just like he forgot all of his promises to “Try harder” or “to change” So I wouldn’t leave. He forgot our 8 year anniversary. And it’s fine. You don’t celebrate something That is already dead.
Fui bruta y me queme No queria creer Que ibas a ser otra decepción Aunque había muchas señas Mi corazón se rehusó a resignarse No quería concebir en la noción que tu amor era una desilusión ahora me siento inutil a ver el mal que me hiciste se que estará mucho mejor sin ti Aunque sea imposible dejarte Es adios para siempre Al ver que tu amor fue otra mentira más
So I had forgotten to post this poem from the great breakup of 2001.
I guess it was fate For you to cross that thin line Between love and hate You were really a waste of time Now you’ll never know How good you and me could’ve been Or how much I really loved you so But your love was only a smoke screen I even thought we had forever because I wanted to believe you were true but I guess you were another whatever and I was another one you’d screw Now there’s nothing left to say and it’s time to forget everything
I wrote this in 2017 during my great depression. I guess I was just annoyed and angry by society.
Simple decency is becoming extinct Manners and politeness is rare rudeness and sarcasm is the norm Being kind feels outdated in this narcissistic society filled with superfluous and superficial people Who bring their harsh and shallow attitudes everywhere There is no escape from this epidemic of the nothingness that tries to appear profound It is a society that blames the victim “ but what was she wearing?” or “He was hanging out with the wrong kids” It is a society that’s prejudiced against anyone different “Go back to where you came from” “You’ll never belong here” “People will always remember how you made them feel”, Maya Angelou said Unnecessary, weak, aloof, isolated alone Is how this world makes me feel I’m a FAILURE trying to accommodate myself to this world full of shallow feelings I miss the kind and real people in this world It’s rare to find them now They are almost extinct