here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11885
ni siquiera ha sido un aΓ±o
y hay un mar entre los dos
el deseo y la pasiΓ³n
que alguna vez compartimos
se fue
y caΓmos en un olvido
de obligaciones y rutina
here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11885
ni siquiera ha sido un aΓ±o
y hay un mar entre los dos
el deseo y la pasiΓ³n
que alguna vez compartimos
se fue
y caΓmos en un olvido
de obligaciones y rutina
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
Iβll 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
βWhat the fuck girl, what was wrong with youβ
she responds, βI was mentally ill and impulsive,lolβ
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
theyβre the ones most likely to break you apart
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
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
βcome with me and your pain will disintegrateβ
and the temptation to follow him is great
I hate living in such a terrible and inhumane
world
este poema fue inspirado por el poema “estoy frustrada” de 2006.

Asustada, frustrada, y estancada
me ahogo en un mar de desolaciΓ³n
y thanatos susurra en mi oΓdo, βven conmigo
y todo tu dolor se esfumaraβ
y la tentaciΓ³n de seguirlo es grande
estoy harta de vivir en un mundo
tan terrible, tan malvado,
tan lleno de inhumanidad
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and paste
Partners, unhealthy love patterns, delusions of love
it happens over and over again
And I try my best to change this narrative
and sometimes it seems to work
but most of the time it was me denying whatβs in front of me
A man who treats me like his inferior
Allowing him to step on my boundaries
trying to keep myself small enough so he doesnβt leave
and Iβve lost count of how many times this has happened to me
And Iβm fucking tired of it
So I put a pause on love for a while
Until I can figure out how to produce healthy love energy
And ensure I donβt settle again for anyone
who treats me less than the majestic and magical queen that I am
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

Triggered trauma brings in a spiral of toxic guilt and shame
even if logically I know itβs not my fault
and I was just standing up for myself
Iβm still recovering from being a nice girl
Iβm still recovering from saying please and thank you
when toxicity was served on a platter of love
Iβm still recovering from compromising
my values and my true self
for the comfort of others so theyβd stay
Iβm 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
aqui esta la version en Ingles:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11863
un lobo disfrazado de cordero me jodio la vida
fingiΓ³ ser mi amigo con elogios y empatia falsa
hasta que un dia me di cuenta quien era de verdad
un mentiroso y psicΓ³pata
y me enfrente a Γ©l y lo bote de mi universo
cuando el me digo que no habΓa hizo nada malo
que le gustaba su privacidad
y no se disculpΓ³ por de su mentira de una dΓ©cada
que me destruyo, pero al menos me abriΓ³ los ojos
Para que lo descartar de mi vida
y aunque todavΓa escribo poesΓa acerca e el
(me dio una gran fuente de inspiraciΓ³n para parar)
estoy bendecida que Γ©l estΓ‘ 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
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 sheβs
she taylor mutherfucking swift
our it girl of the 21st century
this poem is inspired by the 2006 “acknowledgement”.

a wolf in sheepβs 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 didnβt do no wrong
when he said, he just liked his βprivacyβ
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)
Iβm grateful heβs 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
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 itβs their expression of passion
that makes them the object of my obsession
maybe itβs because their creativity makes
me want to make poetry with their bodies
escribΓ 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 decisiΓ³n
nunca pensando del sufrimiento
que este paso puede causar
y al empezar su nueva vida en amΓ©rica
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 dΓ‘ndose el lujo de parar
para procesar sus sentimientos
o lo que estΓ‘n viviendo hasta aΓ±os despuΓ©s
cuando todo el trauma que vivieron
viene como un huracΓ‘n en su mente,
en su cuerpo que se adueΓ±a de ellos
y no los quiere soltar