escribí este poema en septiembre del 2023.
mis antepasados me visitan en sueños para darme ánimos,
para que no me hunda en mi amargura
para que me cubra con esperanza y fe
Que nunca pare de mejorar y evolucionar
poesía: antepasados
poesía: tormenta de ira
escribí este poema en septiembre del 2023.
La tormenta de mi ira después de otro rechazo viene en español
y lloro de cólera y furia
porque de nuevo confíe en la persona equivocada
y mis antepasados se me acercan y me abrazan
me hacen acordar de mi valor
y que ninguna persona tiene derecho a menospreciarme
pero también me dicen que aprenda de esta lección
y que tengo que ser más cuidadosa en seleccionar mis amistades
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poetry: nonsense
I wrote this poem in September of 2019
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poetry: eternal
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
summer feels eternal
it’s the sixth of september
and we’re still in 90-degree weather
melting in this heat
it’s a global warning with no sign
of reprieve
it’s a never-ending season
that has me sweating and cursing
constantly
saying FML and calling my friends
during panic attacks in the bathroom at work
it’s my insanity I can’t seem to rein in
all the way, no matter how hard I try
and the frustration of it wears me out
and make me want to throw in the towel
and give up
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poetry: Domestic Bliss
I wrote this poem in September of 2019.
maybe this is as good as life gets
a life half lived but with few regrets
Who needs adventure and love
when you have the stability of family?
Who needs spontaneity and excitement
when you have the comfort of home?
Who needs connection and chemistry?\
when you have routine and predictability?
Maybe this is as good as life gets
A life half lived but with few regrets
Bored, bored, bored with it all
living a woman’s suburban dream of mediocrity
to want anything more
would break this so-called
domestic bliss
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poetry: september
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
September comes in with a rage and determination in my heart
to keep on moving with a new purpose
to heal and evolve into the healthiest version of myself
without condemning myself over my past misdeeds
and obsessing over how toxic I once was
so what if I allowed myself to be a doormat,
to be stepped on over and over again?
so what if I wasn’t the mom my kids deserved?
Every day is a brand new start to live a life
Intentionally and with purpose
to continue to grow, build, and expand exponentially
because while my past has impacted me
and I’m still dealing with the consequences of it
I need to move past it, leave it behind
I’ve learned everything I need to learn from it
now it’s time to build my present for the future
I deserve to live in
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poetry: words
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
what cannot be said aloud will be written in a poem
for better or worse
I have a tendency to process my emotions
in metaphors and verse
and while many wouldn’t call what I write poetry
because I lack technique or an MFA
or whatever else I’m missing
I’m going to keep writing my raw emotions
Down and sharing them
My words hold value,
My words have power
And it has helped and a few other souls
when our feelings lack logical explanations
and reasons
For better or worse I’m going to continue
to tell my story in poetry
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Poetry: Mama Killa’s Message
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
In humility I ask mama Killa for guidance
To send me a sign of some kind
as I start to unravel and lose myself in my anxiety
and insecurities
As I start to question if I’m on the right path
and throw myself a pity party and cry
because no one is coming to save me
And how despite all the empowerment
I feel with my autonomy
I still miss being in a relationship
and cover myself up in defeat
Thinking I’ll always be this lonely
But mama Killa sends me a reminder of the love
of sisterhood in my dreams
to remind me I’m on the right path
Mama Killa, in her own way, reassures me that staying
true to myself and continuing what sometimes feels like
a challenging and cringy journey of self-discovery
Is the right thing for me to do in order to heal, to grow, to evolve
and to remember everything will fall into place
as long as I keep going and never give up
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Thirsty
What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?
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poetry: bitch
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
the passage of time is a bitch
That I’m reminded of
with every one of my wrinkles I abhor
The passage of time is a bitch
and I desperately want to hold onto my beauty
wearing clothes I’m too old for
and taking an obscene amount of pictures and posting them to validate my self esteem
the passage of time is a bitch
and I self flagellate for not doing enough
to improve myself
and still deal with the same bullshit day in,day out
I thought I would be done with after years of therapy
and introspection
the passage of time is a bitch
and while I could wallow in defeat
thinking of all I could have been
instead I stand proudly and declare
I will no longer sit still and watch life happen to me
from now on I’ll make the best of the time
I have left
and become selective of what and who
I give my energy and time to
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80s tv
What TV shows did you watch as a kid?
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poetry: no one is coming to rescue you
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
No one is coming to rescue you, princess
no matter how much you wish to be saved or try your hardest to manifest
a prince to carry the heavy burden of responsibility
you’re constantly lifting
No one is coming to save you, princess
It’s up to you to save yourself
It’s up to you to continue to work hard
and be selective on what you expend
your energy on
No one is coming to help you, princess
You’re no longer relying on others
for a sense of identity or security
and you’re now an independent Queen
who’s learned only she herself
can save herself and is wise enough to block out
any negativity or toxicity
that threatens her autonomy
or wants to bring on another
Emotional relapse
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poetry: failure
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Flowers bloom with patience and care
where there is sunlight and love
Flowers remind me of relationships
when relationships are not given
the right environment or patience and love
They die
I’m a failure at both-
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poetry: my next ex
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
Gotta flex for my next ex
let me post some thirst trap pic
of my cleavage
and add a profound quote
about my self discovery journey
but nothing too crazy
I don’t want to scare him away
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poetry: tradition not kept
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
Children should be seen, and not heard is one tradition I’ll never keep
It would mean invalidating my children’s feelings
It would mean for them to have years of therapy trying to find their sense of identity
It would mean to reduce them to shadows who only speak when spoken to
It would mean passing them the torch of a generational curse that makes them question their self-worth over and over again
So everyone can judge me or criticize my parenting all they want
I like my children to not just be seen but also heard
even if it’s sometimes loud and boisterous
even if it sometimes sounds disrespectful
It’s important for their emotional growth, for their confidence
and to break and heal the generational curse where children are silenced
Life on the BPD 