Reflection: My Relationship with Poetry

Poetry is and always has been a big part of my life. Poetry is everywhere . Poetry is in the lyrics I sing, it’s in the love I make, it’s in the beauty of nature, and even in the grief I feel. Since as long as I can remember, I’ve used poetry to process my feelings.
At first, it was me finding comfort in song lyrics when sadness or anxiety hit me even as a young child. I remember being 5 and belting out the heartbreaking lyrics to Juan Gabriel’s song “Querida: or the romantic lyrics Daniela Romo’s “De Mi Enamorate”. When I came to the United States in the 80s, I learned English at school but also through song lyrics. I remember at 6 or 7 singing the lyrics to George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” or Rick Astley’s “Together Forever”.
Around 6th grade when I started getting crushes on boys that never gave me the time of day, I would alternate between being angry and singing salty songs like “Someday” by Mariah Carey or singing and crying to Boyz II Men’s “End of The Road”. Yes, I’ve been super dramatic and emotional since I can remember. Haha.
Here is a short playlist of these songs:
And then came the age of the internet when poetry became accessible to me with just a few clicks. I remember being ghosted by this ex when I was 15 and finding this poetry forum with poems full of teenage angst, anger and sadness. It was incredible to me that there were other people feeling how I felt. Yes, some of these poems could be called cringy and corny – but it got me through what I thought was the worst heartbreak I was experiencing at that time. Here are a few of those poems



Around this time my mom noticed my new fondness for poetry and introduced me to the love poetry of the Spanish poet Gustavo Becquer and I swooned. This is my favorite poem of his:

Eventually I started writing poetry to process my feelings and this is one of the first ones I wrote inspired by what else-a breakup. Haha.

In some of my blog posts, I’ve said that I shouldn’t have written poems about so and so and should have gone to therapy; and while that may be true, poetry was also a type of therapy for me. Whether it was writing salty and angry poems or processing feelings of infatuation or existential dread; poetry has been one of the few constants in my life
In my 20s, I discovered Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman” and Sylvia’s Plath “To a Jilted Lover” and my love for poetry became even stronger.


At that time, I also found the courage to join the literary club in college and start reading my own poetry in front of my peers. I call it brave because poets that share their poems, whether it be through open mic night, social media, a blog, or a book are sharing an intimate part of themselves with the world. They’re sharing their vulnerability, their grief, and sometimes even their most private thoughts. It’s brave to do this in a world that shouts at you to “fuck feelings “or tries to tone down the many emotions we as humans feel as we go through this beautiful and complicated thing called life. Sharing your poetry can feeling like opening and inviting the world to your innermost and private thoughts.
For me, poetry is part of how I process life. Sharing my poetry through my blog or at open mic sometimes feels like the last step in healing from trauma. I told my therapist that sharing my poetry through my blog feels cathartic because afterwards it feels like I’m completely done with revisiting a traumatic event. I’ve also received comments from people that they’re related to my poetry because of something similar they’ve felt or have gone through and that’s the other reason I share my poetry. IF even one person can relate to any of my poems and it makes them not feel so alone then I’ve done my job as a poet.

Poem: The Objectification of Eliza
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.


Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy
Tell me I’m beautiful
Objectify me, fuck me,
Forget about me
And then
Try to come back to me
And when I deny
your lust filled request,
Put me down, threaten me
Try to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who treats me like a doll
to fuck at your convenience
You’re not the first
But will be the last
That tells me I’m not good enough
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry
Be persistent in your quest
In trying to get me in your bed
with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
Sorry to my past, my present, and
future lovers-
I am pass being the girl
that’s just used for fun-
I am pass being the lover
you never introduce to your mother
I’d rather live in a world
of solitude and calm
than to once again fall
into the objectification trap
Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.

Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar
Poetry: Stupid Game
I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.

I hate playing this stupid game
Called dating
Trying to decide
Which move to make
So you can have him at checkmate
It’s no longer about falling in love
Or even real feelings
But it’s about winning
So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice
I don’t dare give in to this yearning
To want to call him
Because then they’ll almost be winning
Poesia: Algo Pasajero
Escribi este poema en Diciembre del 2002 porque estaba amarga y triste que los hombres siempre me tratan como un juguete.

Los hombres me miran
y yo sé que ven
Nada más que ese algo pasajero
Que nunca de amor se atrevería hablar
Pero ya me canse
De la manera que me ven
Porque yo soy más
que un cuerpo en sus camas
Porque yo tengo sentimientos
Y quisiera algo verdadero a mi lado
Porque ya no quiero ser
Nada más que una de sus muchas amantes
Porque algún día quisiera tener
Un verdadera hombre
Que me vea mas allá
Que una de sus muchas faldas
Y va a querer saber quien soy en realidad
Para empezar a amarme!
Poesia: Adios
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de todos los pinches canallas que me han roto el corazón.

Adiós es todo lo que se puede decir
Cuando tu ser mas querido te hace sufrir
Aguantarte el derrame de lágrimas
Es lo que tienes que hacer
Para que el vea
Que eres una mujer fuerte
Callarte los gritos dolorosos
Y no le mirés a sus ojos
Y sonreír por más doloroso que sea
Para salvar alguna parte de tu dignidad
Y para que el vea
Que no logró su meta
De hacer lo que quiera contigo
Que para él no más fuiste un juego
Y después cuando él se arrepiente
De ser un desgraciado ser
Tu le puedes decir por fin
Nunca más te deseo cerca de mi
Poetry: Gone
I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.

I woke up one day
To see that you had gone away
All you left was a note
You could no longer cope
With our love mess
You had tried your very best
To be the man I wanted you to be
The one who only cared for me
You had only pretended to be true
And now you say the time has come
You’re sorry it took so damn long
All that is left is goodbye
You tell me to not even ask why
You wish me the best in life
One day I’ll make a great wife
And with your signature you sign off
I hope that someday you’ll find true love
Poetry: Mistake
I wrote this in December of 2002 after I had a one night stand with this dude I met in a bar and he didn’t tell me he was married. I found out a few days later when a coworker told me. I felt shame, guilt, and like a dirty whore for what happened even thought I knew that this time I was an unwilling homewrecker. It was rough.

This was a mistake
I wish I could unmake
I didn’t mean to kiss you
And I didn’t mean for us to screw
But the alcohol got to my head
That somehow led me to your bed
And now you have to understand
Our destiny has been written in the sand
You will never be the man I dream of
Who will deserve the best of my love
So now it’s about time
for you to open your eyes
What happened between you and I
Was chemistry I could no longer deny
So stop trying to interrupt my life
And just go back to your wife
Poetry: The Ending
I wrote this about John in 2002 when he ghosted me. I really liked him so I was really sad. Feelings of worthlessness came up and it was hard to not feel so shitty.

Our love has ended I know
There’s nothing more to say
To make you stay
We were too different, you said
I guess I was just too damn naive
To think someone like you
Could fall in love with an ordinary girl like me
Poesia: Moriste Para Mi
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba bien enfadada que el me rechazo y abandono porque su madre no aprobaba de mi.

Tu moriste para mi
Cuando te fuiste de aquí
Y decidiste que yo no era más
Que una de tus muchas faldas
Pero tu te equivocaste
Al pensar que yo soy cualquier otra mujer
NO! Yo soy algo divino y estupendo
Que pena que tuviste miedo
Pero sabes algo
Ya no hay modo
De que algún día te perdone
porque eres un cobarde
Y ya no me importa
de amar tu nunca fuiste capaz
Y quizás es mejor así
Ya no me puedes herir
Y habré llorado bastante
pero de mi ya no te doy un instante
Poetry: Lust High
I wrote this in December of 2002. This was written about John before he ghosted me. If you can’t tell already, I have a tendency to idealize the men in my life.

I haven’t felt this way in a while
I just get high from talking to you
You just drive me so damn wild
You just don’t know
How you about kill me
When you have to go
Now I couldn’t even imagine
Living without your presence
You are my most wonderful sin
And I will pray every night
That my love you never try to fight
Poetry: Extremely False
I wrote this about John in 2002 after he ghosted me after taking me to see his mom. His mother didn’t approve of me-an uneducated single mom. It was rough and of course I took it personally. So John fell off my pedestal and it was a long fall.

Perhaps you feel too smart
to let someone as ordinary as me
into your heart
Perhaps you think I’m not good enough
to be deserving of your love
Perhaps you are only sure
I’m just good for pleasure
Perhaps you wear a know it all smirk
And believe I’m just like any other girl
Perhaps you believe in your head
I’m only good to warm up your bed
But darling I’m sorry to say
You won’t get your way
Because I respect myself too much
To let myself melt with your touch
Because I am worth a lot more
than any of your trophy whores
Because I have an actual mind
Without you I’ll be just fine
But mostly because I would never fall
For someone so extremely false
Poetry: My Son Throws His Blocks
I wrote this poem in 2006 about my middle child who was toddler at a time. He’s actually my birthday twin and very much like me personality wise.

My son throws his blocks
They hit me like rocks
So much damn temper
Within my little fellow
Little does he know
About the bad people that sew
many, many spiderwebs
to put you under duress
and he throws and he throws
Like life’s unexpected woes
Those wooden things hit my head
he won’t listen to what I say
He sure has an arm
for knowing how to harm
In this just a phase
in this life of a maze
Finally he stops and looks
It is another tantrum in the books
I think this is a preview
to his ever changing mood
Poesia: Error
Escribí este poema en el 2002 acerca de Matt, el padre de mi hijo mayor. Estaba bien amarga y desilusionada con el de nuevo después de que el nos rechazo otra vez mas.

Un día veras
Que no podrás mas
Y te arrepentirás
De día que decidiste olvidarte
De ese niño y esa mujer
Quien te pedía que te acuerdes
Que duro sera
Tendría que explicarle a él
Que tu su padre nunca quisiste ser
Y
Un día pensaras
Que error fue dejarlos atrás
Y tus lágrimas saldrán
Por no poder parar
El odio y rencor que él sentirá
Y
Un día sera muy tarde
Para querer ser su papa

