I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
My son holds the universe in his eyes
with his potential, with his sense of wonder
his eyes are not yet jaded by the inhumanity of this world
and I dread when the day comes
as his innocence starts to fade
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Pathetic Games
la culpa es mÃa por confiar en ti,
la culpa es mÃa por casi acostarme contigo
entonces no deberÃa sorprenderme que ahora
juegas con mis sentimientos
evadiendome un dia y llamandome al dia siguiente
y estoy harta y agotada de ser una vÃctima
de tu toxicidad
es mejor acabar con lo nuestro
y que empieces a olvidarme
porque es obvio que un niño como tú
nunca estará preparado para una reina como yo
In the beginning, it was just me and you –
and it was hard making sense of being a mom
the heavy weight of caring for another human
felt like it was going to crush me at times
and I tried my best with my lack of knowledge
with my lack of judgment
so your lullabies were the goo goo dolls and sugar ray
and your bedtime stories were stephen king and cosmo
the pediatrician did tell me to read to you-
at 17, I thought he meant anything
at 17, I was far from June Cleaver
and I felt so inept at times
and while other moms read parenting books
on how to become mommy dearest
I focused on school books to graduate from high school
so we’d have a fighting chance
so while you never had a typical mom
you still lucked out with a mom
who’ll always fill you up with love and strength
a mom who’ll always have your back
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: No Clue
Fui una estúpida al pensar que tu serias algo diferente
alguien que se quedarÃa
pero repetà el mismo error
enamorarme de otro hombre confundido
enamorarme de potencial y cerrar los ojos a la realidad
esto me pasa por seguir creyendo en cuentos de hadas
donde el prÃncipe salva a la princesa
donde el prÃncipe se queda para siempre
y no se va cuando le da la gana
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
running in the sun warms my body, warms my thoughts
it invokes my need to worship it like my ancestors
before the colonizers declared it wrong and pagan
but they couldn’t erase my blood and my DNA
and my deep connection to the Sun,
my ancestral GOD
Always bringing me to the surface of gratitude and love
I wrote this poem in September in 2022.
without a care in the world-we danced in the rain
enjoying the last vestiges of childhood
feeling the wet ground against our feet
stomping and laughing
and enjoying the miracle of this moment
as it rained in paradise
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: On My Mind
me encierro en sueños y fantasÃas del pasado
porque mi presente está lleno de amargura y odio
sin saber cómo convertir la tragedia de mi vida
en una historia de victoria
por eso prefiero encerrarme en la nostalgia
de mi pasado romántica cuando todavÃa tenÃa esperanza
Life on the BPD 