poetry: happy ending

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

it’s me and my delusions against the world

I’m comfortable in the land of i don’t know
and allow the universe and the source
tell me what I need

And i fall into faith and hope
that things will work out
no matter how many unexpected crooked left turns
I take
no matter how many times I’m met
with obstacles and challenges
it’s all used to build my strength and resilience
It’s all used to fill me up with wisdom
to take risks and live life fearlessly and unapologetically
to find my own happy ending

poetry: darkness

I wrote this poem in July of 2020.

aesthetic: depression

The Darkness comes back
with a fierce strength
and takes over my mind
I want to run
I want to hide
But most of all I want to die

The Darkness comes back
like a hurricane
and wrecks my body and mind
and I don’t want to work
and I don’t want to talk
and I don’t want to breathe

The Darkness comes back
and not even the promise of love
keeps it away

poetry: light

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

I bring a hot pink vibe to your life…hahaha

I hold my head up high now
no matter what happens
I will never allow anyone
to ever again dim or extinguish my light
I now understand the magic I hold within
and how it can be intimidating
to some people who can’t understand it

poesia: mordiste la manzana

escribi este poema en Julio del 2021.

Mordiste la manzana y ahora no sabes como parar
ahora soy tu adicciΓ³n nueva
no puedes parar de pensar en mi
casi estΓ‘s obsesionado conmigo
porque soy una mujer inolvidable y poderosa
y sientes algo conmigo que no sientes con otras
y por eso siempre, siempre regresas a mi

poetry: fighting my inner romantica

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

so true

The romantic in me riots and protests and says
this solitary confinement is bullshit
It’s been over a year since we’ve been intimate
with anyone
or felt a romantic connection
and I try to reason with her
β€œWe’re still healing
and we like to stay emotionally regulated
and healthy”
and she yells, β€œno it’s time to take all
of our therapy skills out for test drive
and find someone we vibe with’
And I answer, β€œbut we’re not”
And she screams, β€œstop with your excuses
go find the next muse of our poetry”

poetry: dancing

I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

it be like that sometimes

Trust in love is a concept lost to me
I can’t imagine giving my heart to anyone else
I can’t imagine being vulnerable with anyone else
and it’s insanity to keep allowing myself to trust and love
when all I do is lose, lose, lose
I don’t know how to cope when a love song stops
while I’m still dancing

poetry: they won’t cross the street

I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

ai generated image of angry Peruvian woman

When I fall in love, I lose control, and I lose my power
and it’s painful
because now I have someone to lose
and I don’t deal with loss very well ever
and suddenly I’m all about them, them, them
be understanding, be sweet, be accepting
Be everything
I’ll go to the depths of hell and back for them
but most of the time, they won’t even cross the street for me

poetry: FUCK LOVE

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

fuck love and fuck whatever my bangs were trying to do in this pic

I gave the middle finger to love for a few reasons
I like to stay emotionally regulated
I like to not be on the brink of suicidal ideation
Every other week
I needed to find out who I was
without anyone distracting me
And for once in my life
I needed to make myself a priority

I got mace

I’m ready to fight back with all of my BPD rage
Daily writing prompt
What bothers you and why?

mace sits next to my insect repellent in my backpack
gone are the days where I could go on a solitary walk
without worrying if someone evil is lurking nearby
gone are the days where I could turn the volume all the way up
in my earbuds and forget about everyone else
and meditate and write in nature
soon I’ll be looking up self defense classes
to cover all of my bases
I’m too important to fall victim to bad luck
and become another statistic in the epidemic of femicide
still I dare anyone to come at me
this time I’m armed with the rage of my ancestors and BPD

poetry: you’ll never hear from me again

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

it’s water under the bridge

my exes get off easy when they leave
because they never hear from me
and while they become the muse of my poetry
I pretend they exist in a different universe
at times I’ve even pretended some of them were dead
none of this was ever done with ill intent
it’s just the only way I know how to deal
with catastrophic heartbreak
I’d rather close their chapter in my life indefinitely
than deal with some pseudo friendship
and it seems cruel and harsh
In the long run, I’m doing them a favor
Sparing them from me hurting them
in an unexpected explosion of emotions
when I can’t reign my rage in
even in the end, I’m still protecting them
out of respect for the love we once shared

poesΓ­a: como es ella

escribΓ­ este poema en Julio del 2022.

Como es ella, la que escogiste, la que quieres
la que ocupa mi sitio en tu corazΓ³n
ΒΏle llamas princesa tambiΓ©n?
ΒΏLe llamas el amor de tu vida?
Le llamas angel?
Ojala que ella pueda apreciarte y pueda ser la mujer sumisa
que tu deseas porque tu mereces alguien que te traiga calma
y no una mujer caΓ³tica como yo

poesΓ­a: seΓ±or

escribΓ­ este poema en julio del 2022.

verad

Cuando me respondiste en una forma desdeΓ±osamente
Casi me morΓ­
Casi perdΓ­ la esperanza y la fe
PensΓ© que me merecΓ­a como me trataste-
pense que fui una estupida por gastar mi tiempo contigo
pero despuΓ©s de un tiempo me di cuenta
que tu tambien tenΓ­as tus inseguridades
es verdad que yo tenΓ­a mis problemas
Pero usted seΓ±or tambiΓ©n tenΓ­a las suyas

poetry: trauma anniversary

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

“and I thanked God to touch the flame”- Conan Gray

I’m trying my best to find gratitude for this trauma anniversary
trying to let go of that catastrophic day
trying to quell the anger, rage, and grief, my body kept score of
it’s going to be a day of triggers and emotional dysregulation
it’s going to be a day where traumatic memories take up space in my mind
and body
the best I can do it try to take comfort that every year it gets easier
And some day it will be unimportant
that someday I’ll find a way to write about this day without breaking down
that someday I’ll forget that this day meant anything
but today I’m acknowledging one of the worst days of my life
honoring the rollercoaster of emotions that still comes up
and make me want to vomit
and find compassion for myself and the person
who drove me from the edge of my sanity

poetry: Modern Day Marie Antoniette

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

and sometimes those meltdowns include angry poems like this one…lol

she thinks she should be thanked for flexing her confidence
clothed in privilege and luxury by posting advice to women
about how dining alone in a fancy restaurant is women’s empowerment
and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit
it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment
perhaps it’s because I’m a working class immigrant woman
who struggles in America
perhaps it’s because the rights of the marginalized and working class
are being ripped away from us
and on my social media feed, this yuppie and elitist bullshit appears
how can I be friends with this bleached blonde Barbie
oh yeah, we worked together briefly
and I almost start to comment with an essay on how she should
check her privilege before handing out tokens of toxic positivity
while people like me are drowning in debt and lack financial stability
but I stop
this barbie isn’t worth my time or energy
it’s time to unfriend and unfollow the marie antoinette wannabe
who only serves to trigger my working class rage
who serves to remind of the injustice and inequality
in this capitalistic and racist American society