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
Here is the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Nothing More
como una tonta doy lo mejor de mi y me conformo con lo más mínimo
para sentir algo de amor
como una tonta me achicó hasta no existir para acomodarme a tu ego
como una tonta me quedo calladita y guardo mis opiniones dentro de mi
para que no me dejes
como una tonta pienso que esta vez tendré una fin feliz
por tanto esfuerzo que hago
como una tonta siempre repito la misma tragedia de amor
sin aprender mi lección
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
The rain falls steadily in August
and I feel a sense of dread, a sense of hopelessness
and I want to dwell on everything I lack,
on everything I’m a failure at-
But I stop myself because while sadness has served as inspiration
and has a place in my mind and life
I can’t allow it to take over my life and consume me
because this is not my whole story
I’m more than being sad and angry
What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
here is the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Stupid Game
Maldita sea este juego de amor
me siento un peón sin poder, sin control
y no importa lo que hago
siempre pierdo mi cabeza y mi alma
siempre pierdo mi razon y mi corazón
y terminó destrozada y lastimada
por ser terca y estúpida y siempre perder
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My default setting must be sad
because when a wave of happiness comes
all I can feel is anxiety
a stabbing in my gut that makes me nauseous
maybe I’m still getting used to this new feeling
of joy and excitement in my life
Maybe I don’t know how to deal with
finally being healthy and happy
maybe I’m just used to my constant state of misery
sometimes I am Salma,
Sexy, alluring, playful
and a world of fun
Sometimes I am Sylvia
Angry, frustrated, contemplative
and fascinated with death
It depends on who I’m with
and which woman they inspire me to be
I want to find someone I can be both with
A man who loves both the Salma and Sylvia in me
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Lust High
por ti abriré el cerco alrededor de mi corazón
porque inspiras confianza y ternura
porque siento que contigo puedo encontrar la esperanza
de nuevo en entregar mi vulnerabilidad
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to water my roots with the supposed love of others
their compliments, their energy made me whole
but eventually they’d tired of being my water, my earth
my everything and leave
And I was left once again incomplete-
until one day I learned to water my roots with my tears,
my strength, my self-love
And now my growth and potential are infinite
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Adios
I keep my screams and cries inside for the sake of my pride
I’ll pretend I’m happy and fine
even as waves of infinite grief wash over me
and I’m drenched in humiliation and shame
for allowing myself to become the pawn in a game
played by another guy who’s only looking for a temporary distraction
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
My favorite words are my sons names
names that taught me about patience
and unconditional love
names that have made me get up
when I didn’t want to
names that fill me with faith and hope
when I’m about to lose it
names that make me want to become
a better person than I was yesterday
names I live for
names I would die for
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
Poesia: Algo Pasajero
I’m more than a temporary destination for men to lay their love in
I will no longer lay down and play princess
and adjust and accommodate to their egos and needs
when they can never make me a priority
when they can never acknowledge my humanity
from now I won’t allow anyone near me
unless they show themselves worthy of my time and energy
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to have a tunnel vision of love
thought it could only be felt with someone
but I was wrong
love is in the trees
love is in the ocean
love is in the earth
and love is in myself
my higher power taught me this
and it’s a lesson I’ll forever cherish
Aqui esta la version en español:
Poesia: Podría Ser
I’m not the woman of your dreams or the woman you’ll worship as a deity
or the woman who accommodates and bends according to your needs
but I’m the woman who’ll haunt you with the “what ifs”,
I’m the woman who’ll fuel your creativity,
I’m the woman who’ll make you believe magics exists
Life on the BPD 