here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11885
ni siquiera ha sido un año
y hay un mar entre los dos
el deseo y la pasión
que alguna vez compartimos
se fue
y caímos en un olvido
de obligaciones y rutina
poetry: block island
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
I still watch our video, we were so cute together
(sends pic of us naked in bed)
your pussy is fire
I’ll wait for you until you change your mind
I guess loving you is a crime
these are the things said to me by the men
I send to block island
exes and lovers who continuously disrespected me
and never could listen to my no
or respect my boundaries when we tried to be friends
one of them I had to threaten to expose with the story
Of how I broke his dick
the rest made me feel a deep sense of guilt
and covered me with toxic shame for letting them
near me
and I yell at that sick version of myself asking her
“What the fuck girl, what was wrong with you”
she responds, “I was mentally ill and impulsive,lol”
and I try to find forgiveness for all of us
trying to not victimize or villainize but the fire of anger
rises up and I hate them and me
for ever exchanging energies with them
the only lesson learn in this is
be careful, be wary of the nice guys
the guys who talk a big game about respect
and still make you an object of their obsession
they’re the ones most likely to break you apart
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poetry: on Sundays
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
on sundays I give myself permission
to live inside my head
where I build a world I can freely imagine
and play in
where only a select few I let in
on sundays, I jump timelines
from the 90s to last year to my present
writing about past experiences
that still linger in my mind
on sundays I give myself permission
to be a complete hermit
with only my playlist, my pen,
and my paper to keep me company
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poetry: thanatos
here’s the Spanish version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11875
petrified, frustrated, and stagnated
drowning in a sea of disillusionment
thanatos finds me and whispers in my ear
“come with me and your pain will disintegrate”
and the temptation to follow him is great
I hate living in such a terrible and inhumane
world
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poesía: huye de mi
escribí este poema en febrero del 2024.
huye de mí antes que sea demasiado tarde
antes que caigas bajo mi hechizo
de mis mil y uno encantos
y empiezas a soñar conmigo
porque cuando empieces a amarme
estarás jodido para siempre
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poesía: thanatos
este poema fue inspirado por el poema “estoy frustrada” de 2006.
Asustada, frustrada, y estancada
me ahogo en un mar de desolación
y thanatos susurra en mi oído, “ven conmigo
y todo tu dolor se esfumara”
y la tentación de seguirlo es grande
estoy harta de vivir en un mundo
tan terrible, tan malvado,
tan lleno de inhumanidad
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poetry: toxic story
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
Triggered trauma brings in a spiral of toxic guilt and shame
even if logically I know it’s not my fault
and I was just standing up for myself
I’m still recovering from being a nice girl
I’m still recovering from saying please and thank you
when toxicity was served on a platter of love
I’m still recovering from compromising
my values and my true self
for the comfort of others so they’d stay
I’m still recovering from the most toxic
story I ever told myself when it came
to measuring my worth by how
others judged and perceived me
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poesía: carnero
escribí este poema en febrero del 2023
Como un carnero el tomo mi corazon
y lo cortó en una docena de piezas
sin remordimientos, sin perdons
y lo consumio
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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
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poetry: it girl
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
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
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poetry: muse
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
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
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poetry: But you Really hAd some auDacity
this poem is inspired by the 2006 “acknowledgement”.
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
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poesía: PTSD
escribí este poema en febrero del 2024.
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
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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
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poetry: unfuckable
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
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
Life on the BPD 