Poetry: Forgiving My Younger Self

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice

I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021

I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright

I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog

I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best

I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer

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

Poetry: My Body is An Altar by Angelica Flores

My Body is An Altar by Angelica Flores

I made my body an altar
Each morning I look in the mirror
and I pray
Each part of me represents
divinity
A higher power loved me enough
to give me breath
That is why I am doing the best I
can to present my body
I close my eyes and thank my
organs for functioning
I am divine and I know
I will treat myself with high
respect

Angelica Flores is a poet and storyteller. Check out her blog at : https://angelicafloreswriter.com/

Poetry: I Was Never the Marrying Kind

I wrote this in December of 2021.

I’m grateful for every past version of myself …

I was never the marrying kind
Don’t know why I forced myself into that line
Maybe because of society’s expectations
I made marriage my destination
But it wasn’t really who I ever was
Forever is not meant to be in my book of love
But still I tried for seven years
And by year 7, I ran into my biggest fear
I felt trapped in a cage of my own making
Happiness, contentment, and authenticity I was faking
But it was never truly me
Living this suburban reality
And one day I wanted to sleep forever
My mind collapsed from society’s pressure
to continue this facade of being the perfect wife
With my perfectly imperfect life
My authenticity I had to put aside
I’m a wife and mother of three
There’s no such thing as being free
But these were the lies I told myself
The critic in me I learned to quell
I learned I could be a mother but not a wife
My husband took our relationship’s demise in stride
There would no more anniversaries
We were done with self imposed forgeries
And a new chapter started with us
One full of laughter, friendship and familial love

December Poetry Challenge: 99.9 Percent

This is my response to prompt #15: the best kind of surprise

sometimes you have to say “fuck it”

Love surprises me with a glance, with a slight touch on my hand
And 99.9 percent of me wants to run
I don’t want to take a chance once again with my sanity
but the romantic in me say “fuck it”
maybe this will finally be a different story
one where my lover doesn’t leave

Poetry: The Ultimate Queen

I wrote this in December of 2021.

And those flames burn 🔥 😍

At 40, I feel like the ultimate Queen
after losing layers and layers of my princess skin
The broken princess I had to beat
to finally feel enough and complete
Friends and men full of duplicity
Have no place in my world of authenticity
I no longer wear my crown of guilt and shame
It caused me too much emotional pain
Instead I wear a crown of confidence and power
being true to myself is my superpower
Fuck anyone who thinks I’m too much or not enough
You assholes were never deserving of my love
I am the ultimate Queen
and I’m finally making myself seen

Poetry: Writer Identidad

I wrote this in 2008 in my creative writing class. I actually hated that class because I didn’t fit in. It’s a long story for a blog post at a later time.

 

I don’t want to be
a style ,a genre
a multicultural read
with scattered Spanish
in my text
that is interpreted
as Chica or Latina lit
-NO!-
I refuse to be a mere category
Or a trend or a fad
When there is a much bigger message
Than the stereotypes
people want to imply

 

Poetry: Love and Hate

So I had forgotten to post this poem from the great breakup of 2001.

haha…it be like that sometimes

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

Poetry: The Modern Southern Woman

I wrote this in 2016.

me in 2016 when I wrote this poem

Faulkner wrote about her ancestors
She stood like a pillar of strength between her mother and daughter
She stood strong as both of them held her arms that were their life jackets
as they drowned in endless sorrows
Tears silently fell from her face as her father laid in his closed home
And the reverend went on about him being in a better place
And her strength did not falter,
She let her loved ones hold on tight while she tried to blink away tears ,
She swallowed her pain and absorbed the pain from those around her
She wasn’t just strong for her mother and daughter,
but she was a goddess of strength among the mere mortals
around her that wept

Poem: Strength

I wrote this poem in January of 2020. Maybe I was mad at the patriarchy or just feeling weighed down by the expectations that society has on women. I know that for me, it has been a huge burden at times to constantly keep up an appearance that I am put together balanced woman even if I am falling apart.

me in January of 2020

The strength we have to carry as women

  is obscene

Endless expectations weigh on us

   generation after generation

We are buried in the burdens 

  that society has placed on us 

  since before we are born

Be sexy but don’t show your body

Be smart but your opinion is not wanted

Be motherly and nurturing

  but still a productive member of society

It is a never ending nightmare 

 to try to reach 

  the ridiculous standards

 of beauty, wealth, and motherhood

Some of us seem to do it with grace

Some of us are barely hanging on by a thread

Quite a few of us would rather die 

  than continue with the facade of the myth

  of the balanced and beautiful woman

Poetry: The Wound

I wrote this in 2008.

I never came back the same

The Wound

It’s a wound that never closes
No matter how many years
are spent trying to close it

To taste the pure heaven that is you
and have it swept
from under me in a sudden swoop
made the everlasting wound

I looked everywhere
for somebody to help me close it
But no matter how hard
they tried, the wound
wouldn’t come close to closing

I finally met someone who lessened the pain
of the wound
with his gentle and understanding nature
But even after 6 years as his patient
the wound remains open

 

Poetry: My Pride and Joy

I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.

me and my oldest in 2003

You’re a wonderful mistake

I never want to unmake

I was young and stupid

a kid having another kid

but with you I finally grew up

and learned the meaning of love

You are everything a mother could want

Such an admirable and fine son

you are my pride and joy

you will always be my little boy

And I will dread the day

When you have to go away

But I take relief in knowing

You’ll know how to spread your wings

And you will always remember

who you once were

A wonderful mistake

Your mom never wanted to unmake

Perhaps a creation of lust

but one who never lacked love