I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Insecurities and anxiety from my immigrant childhood
Come out to play and my adult self wants to run away
I thought I was healed from this
I hate these triggers—but I still confront them even if I don’t want to
I cry and write about them, reprocess something not quite healed
Am I on the way to my recovery from BPD?
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Company
Querido amigo, ¿por qué quieres que pase la noche contigo?
¿Será porque quieres usar mi cuerpo para que cubra tu soledad?
¿Será porque estás triste por el rechazo de aquella?
lo siento, pero me tengo que ir
no me prestaré para ser uno de tus antojos temporáneos
porque tu no sabes como enfrentar tus sentimientos
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
love makes me feel trapped
trapped in a cage of desire and emotions
that I want to escape from
and I still try thinking this time
it will be different except it never is
so I’m giving up for a while-
Giving myself time to prepare for my next victim
Describe your life in an alternate universe.
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Dear Brad
Queridisimo Brad-
lo siento por no dejar que me lleves a tu cama
y que me uses como te dé la gana
es que aprendi mi leccion
y ahora entendió que soy un tesoro
que no puede gastar su energía
en alguien que no mas me quiere
por un ratito y despues se va
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
the facade of equality is cloaked in good intentions and lovely words-
and while laws have been passed to prevent discrimination
and to try to level the game of success,
it’s all a sham, it’s all a con
we still live in a world where the color of your skin and social status
and gender determine your prosperity
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Caught Between
entreverada entre dos mundos en oposición
perdió mi lenguaje y los pocos recuerdo de mi patria
y sigo siendo una extranjera en mi patria adoptiva
y nunca aceptada-
me siento rechazada y sin una identidad
trato de encajar en dos culturas que me acusan
de nunca ser suficiente
y vivo un conflicto internal
y un dia me harto y digo me vale madre
lo que los peruanos y americanos digan o piensen de mi
la unica opinion que vale, que importa es la mía
List 30 things that make you happy.
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
did you drink your water today?
did you remind yourself you’re worthy of love?
did you understand you were always enough?
will you repeat after me-
I won’t run away from or suppress my feelings
I need to face my emotions head on
or else I’ll break down
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
you were my hope in love restored
everything I had dreamed of
everything I had wished for
and it was nice for a while-
getting lost in our love
thinking it was safe,
thinking it could be my permanent sanctuary
until one day like clockwork
you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t enough
and I was left wondering “what the fuck is wrong with me?”
The door of creativity has opened for me and there’s no going back-
Writing has become my new obsession-
with it I let out years of my pent up frustration and rage
I don’t even understand having a constant need to write
every single thing
my writer’s block is now a distant memory
as my pen lets out all of my life’s stories of sorrow and joy
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
At 5 am, I woke up and wrote a 4 page poem
about how I wasn’t enough and proceeded to crash my car
and my therapist asked if I wanted to die-
And I was like “nah, I just couldn’t reign my impulsivity in”
at least this time I got control of the car and didn’t fuck
anyone else up
Life on the BPD 