Poetry: Merry Go Round of Fuckery
I wrote this in the summer of 2019 about C when we were on another break. Thinking back on this period in my life when I would get so mad about him ghosting again and again and going back to him again and again feels so strange now. I don’t feel like the same person that wrote this.
We’re back here once again
You ghost, you ignore, you abandon
And I beg you to come back
It’s our merry go round of fuckery
I’m mad,I’m sad, I’m done
I’m finally almost recovered
From you-
Trying to forget you, mourning you,
Accepting you’re gone –
And then a text from you
It’s our merry go round of fuckery
Crying, writing, running
Each day it gets easier
Learning to forget you
But then, a “how are you”
Appears on my phone
It’s our merry go round of fuckery
Will you ever go away?
Am I always going to be this insane?
When will I get off from
Our merry go round of fuckery?
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Writing is my passion. 😍💕💗
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Poetry: My Bad Habit
I wrote this about C. in the late summer of 2020 after we were yet on another break. I guess the sex really made me obsess over him.
I can’t turn my body off
From wanting you
Even if you make my heart blue
You take up space in my brain
Even when you bring me so much pain
Why does lust make me so blind?
You are my obsession
Even after your devastation
You show up in my dreams
I wish you didn’t exist
I wish there was a spell
To forget how you made me melt
I’m sure that time
Will make your memory fade
And will time
make me heal from
The experience of you
I just wish that time
Would speed up so that
You were only a distant memory
That I already learned to forget
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Poesia: Algo de Ti
Escribí este poema en el 2001 cuando estaba loca por alguien. No me acuerdo quien era. Haha.
Ay algo de ti
Que me atrae a mi
A lo mejor es tu
Forma de reir
o hablar
O puede ser
La manera que me
vuelves loca cuando me
acaricias
Yo ya se
Es que tu me haces
SENTIR!
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Poetry: Another Girl
I wrote this in 2001 after experiencing a really bad break up. Break ups tend not just break my heart but also make question my self worth. It’s really hard for me to get over someone especially if I get super attached to that person. In this case, I had been with the dude for like 2 months and I guess thought that maybe he was “the one”. Well that wasn’t the case when I found out he had been cheating on me the entire time. At least it inspired dozens and dozens of poems. Lol.
You make me feel like shit
and it’s breaking me bit by bit
I don’t know what to do
Knowing you love someone new
I feel so helpless
I’ve become such a big mess
and now seeing you and her
I see now that I was just another girl
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Poetry: Reborn
I wrote this in late 2007 as I reflecting about my life and how much I had changed.
The nostalgic ocean
reminds me of
everything that
I’ve lost.
Former flames, former friends
swept in a
wave from under me.
My former self
died in that wave.
When the wave
came back…
I was stronger
and better.
I was reborn again.
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Poetry: Ghost of Mamacita
I wrote this poem in 2018 shortly after the death of my maternal grandmother/mamacita. My grandmother lived in a time where her opportunities were very limited by society’s rules about what a woman should be.
The ghost of my grandmother
hangs above me
Her spirit swallows and
Envelops me-
It tells me to live
a life full of passion and love
Without self imposed boundaries
It tells me to stop
being afraid of my promise
and potential
and takes risks and
Go for my dreams
No matter how many
obstacles stand in my way
It tells me that I only
have one life left to live
And I need to start
living it fully instead
of standing on the sidelines
Waiting for something or someone
to rescue me
It tells me
Stop waiting
Now it’s your turn
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Poetry: Independence Day (a love poem)
I wrote this poem in the summer of 2019 when C had ghosted me for the millionth time and I thought that I was finally done with him and I was determined not to go back with him. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case. This relates to one of my BPD traits which is fear of abandonment. I think one of the reasons I kept letting him come back.
I’m finally free
Of the spell
You have over me
I’m finally free
Of the butterflies
I felt when I saw your text
I’m no longer blinded
By your callous ways
I will no longer tolerate
Your undercover mistreatment
I can no longer be part of
My continuing self destruction
I’ve learned to stay away
From the intensity of your gaze
I’ve learned to love myself enough
To stop holding on to your false love
I’ve learned to stop ruining my life..
Because of our connection?
Our chemistry?
Nah, it’s just bomb ass sex.
I’ve learned that my self worth
Can’t be tied to you, my toxic lover
My self worth
Is tied into my self love
Into loving the best parts
And the worst parts of me
But most of all I’ve learned
That no amount of orgasms
Or passionate kisses
Or sparks
Are worth me agonizing
Once again
If I’m good enough
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Poetry: She Flew
I wrote this poem in February of 2006 when my mother in law passed away suddenly. I knew for a short time but she was one of the most gracious and kindest individuals I ever met.
She flew one afternoon without warning
To a place unknown
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
And now everyone left behind
has puddles dripping from their eyes
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
Regrets and remorse
Have become our two worlds
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
No fancy words could ever express
How it feels to lose your best
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
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Poetry: Don’t
I wrote this poem 2002 and it was yet another poem inspired by the bio dad of my oldest child. For many years. I had so much unresolved rage and anger about how he abandoned my son and used poetry as a way to process it.
Don’t even try to understand me
You don’t even know me
I was born with your DNA
But to you, I have nothing to say
I once was a babe, a boy
And now a man
Don’t pretend to give a damn
I’ve done grown up to become
A man unlike you that doesn’t run
No thanks to you “Dad”
You left when I was a mere lad
So please go on on your way
I can’t stand the sight of you
Another day
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Poetry: In the ICU
I wrote this poem in 2018 when my grandmother passed away. She was in the ICU for about a week before she passed and it was tough on the family.
She lies between this world and the next
She can’t decide between her husband
Or her kids
She is tired, she is drained, she is 94
She lies between this world and the next
She needs to let her body decide a final rest
But her spirit wants to stay
withinIn the cocoon of her family
She lies between this world and the next
She slowly feels her ancient and battered body
Give up….
It is tired of the endless pain
And her spirit
slowly agrees
And
Lets her leave in peace to the heaven that is him
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Poetry: Another Pathetic Guy
I wrote this funny poem after a really bad date in 2001. I was obviously very salty at the time.
I write the same pathetic poem
about another pathetic guy
From the first conversation
you didn’t seem to have an ounce of promise
With your arrogant way of talking
but I decided to give you a chance anyways
But little would I know
how you would try to make me feel
Like some ignorant ho
Little would I know
I would enjoy your landlord’s company
more than your own
Never had I seen
how arrogant somebody could be
Never had I felt
such repulse towards a male
Never will I see
a future between you and me
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Poesia: Te Amo
Escribí este poema después de que tuve una disolución desastrosa en el 2001. Soy bien dramática cuando una relación amorosa acaba.
Te Amo
Pero te odio
Te extraño
Pero me olvido
Te deseo
Pero tu amor es feo
Te quisiera tener aquí
Pero tu me haces sufrir
Te quisiera besar
Pero me mandas al fondo del mar
Te quiero conmigo
Pero tu eres frío
Te guardo en mi corazón
Pero contigo pierdo la razón
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Poetry: The Jungle Part 2
I wrote this about the PULSE club shooting in 2016.
Everyone claims thoughts and prayers
For those they sprouted
Hatred against (just a few days ago)
Only because of their untimely
Deaths.
If they had gone
On living -they would
Have continued to be
Hated by most–
Now they are loved
And remembered and
Prayed for in the their death
Because they are dead.
It’s too late for you
Prayers warriors, you
Religious zealots and
bigots , your prayers
And love falls on
Angry ears, ears of
The victims families , ears
Of their loved ones, ears
Of the LATINX,Puerto Rican,
LGBTQ Community
People who weren’t
Given two fucks about
Or treated with hatred
Because your Bible told
You so.
Life on the BPD 