poesia: La BRomA que fuiste de verDad

aqui esta la version en Ingles:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11863

un lobo disfrazado de cordero me jodio la vida
fingió ser mi amigo con elogios y empatia falsa
hasta que un dia me di cuenta quien era de verdad
un mentiroso y psicópata
y me enfrente a él y lo bote de mi universo
cuando el me digo que no había hizo nada malo
que le gustaba su privacidad
y no se disculpó por de su mentira de una década
que me destruyo, pero al menos me abrió los ojos
Para que lo descartar de mi vida
y aunque todavía escribo poesía acerca e el
(me dio una gran fuente de inspiración para parar)
estoy bendecida que él está fuera de mi vida
la vida es demasiado corta para que pitucos
como brads, chads, y kens que piensan
que por su privilegio puedan hacer
lo que se le da la gana sin consecuencias

poetry: it girl

I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

my “it girl” vibe

all eyes on taylor as she ignites a battle
between the sexes
men triggered by her existence
women coming to her defense
sharing memes and articles
to validate her popularity
and Taylor
she just want to love and support
her boyfriend like any ordinary girl
except she’s
she taylor mutherfucking swift
our it girl of the 21st century

poetry: But you Really hAd some auDacity

this poem is inspired by the 2006 “acknowledgement”.

should have said sorry, bruh

a wolf in sheep’s clothing got to me
he pretended to be my friend
with endless compliments and fake empathy
Until one day I found out who he really was
a liar ,a psychopath
and I called him out and blocked him
from my universe when he said he didn’t do no wrong
when he said, he just liked his “privacy”
and offered no apologies after a decade long lie
which added to my trust issues
but at least it opened my eyes
enough to kick him out of my life
and while I still make poetry out of him
(he gave me too much material to ignore)
I’m grateful he’s out of my life
life is too short for entitled Brads, Chads,and Kens
who think that just because of their privilege
they can get away with ANYTHING

poetry: muse

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

them creative types make me crazy with fantasies and daydreams

what is it about poets and writers I find so attractive
maybe it’s how they play with words
that makes me yearn to become their muse
maybe it’s their expression of passion
that makes them the object of my obsession
maybe it’s because their creativity makes
me want to make poetry with their bodies

poesía: PTSD

escribí este poema en febrero del 2024.

oxapampa

dejan su patria por una mejor vida
por el bienestar de su familia
nunca pensando en las consecuencias
de esta decisión
nunca pensando del sufrimiento
que este paso puede causar
y al empezar su nueva vida en américa
se enfrentar con la dura y cruel realidad
de ser inmigrante
nunca siendo aceptados,
siempre ser tratados como algo menos
de ser humanos
siempre teniendo que trabajas el doble, el triple
para poder sobrevivir
nunca dándose el lujo de parar
para procesar sus sentimientos
o lo que están viviendo hasta años después
cuando todo el trauma que vivieron
viene como un huracán en su mente,
en su cuerpo que se adueña de ellos
y no los quiere soltar

poesía: sin titulo

aqui esta la version en ingles

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11853

muchos tomaron muchas apuestas de cuánto tiempo durarán
con una generación de edades entre ellos
y las gran diferencias de culturas
todos dudaban en su cuento de amor
pero, ellos funcionaron por más de una década
y criaron a tres hombres por casi dos décadas
y aunque un dia su incompatibilidad les alcanzó
y ellos tuvieron que poner un fin a su cuento de amor
lo reconstruyeron con las base de amor
que ellos alguna vez compartieron
y en el mejor interés de sus hijos
y evolucionaron a cuento saludable de amistad
donde todo su resentimiento y ira fue enterado
y no hay animosidad entre ellos sobre el pasado
donde ellos se apoyan y por fin
son los padres que sus hijos se merecen

poetry: unfuckable

I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

so unfuckable

bomb of rage detonated and set off
the angry woman takes over
I watch
as she villainizes, demonizes
She can’t be stopped
She burns bridges and laughs
about it
I hate her, I wish she didn’t exist
she’s my shadow, my anger
who’s built to protect me
to grant me power
when I feel powerless
she’s a part of me
who can’t be suppressed or ignored
I learn to love her, give her attention
she craves
and in due time
introspection and therapy happens
and she’s finally integrated into me
and she becomes my super power
Me and her
we’re a force of nature
not to be fucked with

poetry: untitled

this poem is inspired by the 2006 poem, “poem for a couple I never knew”

the kind of energy we brought together

many took bets on how long they’d last
between the age gap, the difference in cultures
they didn’t stand a chance
yet, they kind of made it work for more than a decade
yet, they still raised three fine young men for almost 20 years
and while their incompatibility caught up to them
and they had to end their love story
they rebuilt it on the foundation
of the love they once shared
and in the best interest of their children
and evolved into a healthy story of friendship
where any resentment and anger has been buried
and there are no hard feelings over past grievances
where they support one another
and are finally the parents their children
always deserved

poetry: wild, wild west

I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

accurate photo of my wild wild west

it’s the wild wild west inside my head
it’s where my demons decide to come out to play
they dance with traumatic memories
making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface
it’s the wild wild west inside my head
being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic
scaring away any potential love candidates
it’s been a long time since I held someone’s hand
much less been in someone’s bed
It’s the wild wild went inside my head
And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave
so maybe one day I’m not so jaded
so maybe one day I give someone the chance
to take me out on a date

poesía: mi cliente favorito

aquí esta la version en Ingles:

poetry: my favorite customer

era otra noche aburrida en el trabajo
estaba atrapada en la isla diez
entre alma naciendo productos
y mis pensamientos intrusivos
una canción de los 90s suena de la altavoz
y cuando voy a cantar
escucho pasos detrás de mí
me volteo y él está allí
mi cliente favorito, 5’10, cabello negro y crespo
labios carnosos y rojos, y un cuerpo hecho
por un dios griego
estaba mirando las ollas y sartenes
me volteó al revés para que el no me vea
y mientras amanecía los tupperware
le echaba miradas furtivas
esperaba que él no se daría cuenta
de mi porque estaba hecha toda
un desmadre para coquetear
y mi corazoncito muerto resucitó
y empezó a volar mi imaginación
con fantasías de nuestro primer beso
y justo alli
el se me acercó y pensé, “hay dios mio”
claro que me pregunto por una olla
que no teniamos
le dije que “no” y me disculpe
el me contesto “no paso nada”
con su voz quebrada
y rapido se fue
y me pregunte, “estoy alucinando
pero se me hace que el también esta atraido a mi”

poetry: who am i?

I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

me at 13

love ties me up and binds with a rope of shame
slowly I fade away until I’m nothing
I don’t recognize who I am
Friends tell me I’ve changed
I tell them they’re crazy
messages appear in dreams
I’m living a fake life
who am i? who am i? who am i?

poetry: my favorite customer

this poem was inspired by this silly poem from 2006 called, “A poetic tale”.

this is the vibe of this poem..lol

it was another boring night at work
I was stuck on aisle 10 between stocking
and my racing thoughts
a 90s dance song comes on the speaker
and just when I’m about to sing
I heard footsteps behind me
I turned around and there he was-
my favorite customer
5’10 ,curly black hair, full red lips
and a body built by some Greek God
he was looking at pots and pans
I quickly turned my back to stock the tupperware
and sneaked glances and admired him from afar
hoped he didn’t notice me in my Kroger garb
I looked like too much of hot mess to flirt
but still my dead and jaded heart was resuscitated
and my imagination took flight
as fantasies of him surfaced to my mind
and just as I’m imagined our first kiss
he approached me, -OH NO!
of course he asked for a specific type of pan
we didn’t have
I told him no and apologized
in my best customer service voice
and he told me “no worries”
as his voice cracked and walked away quickly
and I wondered, am I imagining things,
or is he also attracted to me?

poetry: purpose

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

that cabinet also brings purpose to my life- it holds almost all of my stories

Open mics, family, karaoke nights, dance parties,
Tarot readings, poems written on sticky notes,
Epiphany after epiphany about how I have always been worthy,
Long conversation about life in coffee shops,
Trips to my dad’s hometown, sharing silly verses with friends
making dumb videos, coffee cups that say main character energy
dancing in car while I drive, taking picture of the moon
and everything else that brings me joy,
and every single experienced Ive lived,
every single person I’ve loved
is what my life’s purpose is about
It’s joy,hate, love, anger, empathy, envy
it all brings purpose to my wretched everyday
existence

poesía: al otro lado

here’s the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11733

nos dejo de la noche a la manana
volo al otro lado
para encontrarse con su amado
dejándonos con un duelo inmenso
no hay lágrimas o palabras
para ablandar nuestro dolor
y ahora nos volvemos
en montañas de remordimientos
hasta que aceptamos
que el paso el tiempo será nuestro
mejor amigo para sanar
de su gran ausencia

poetry: community

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

my community is my three of cups

while I’ve been obsessed with everything that has gone wrong with my life
I’m learning to finally acknowledge everything that went right
always been blessed to have a community of friends
who loved and accept me as the crazy and creative mess that I have always been
for that I am most grateful to the universe
the ultimate gift of friendship