three poems about my political views

taking an oath to Trump was traumatic -ew
Daily writing prompt
How have your political views changed over time?

new America

are we going in time with our lack of rights
with prejudices more overt-
this is suppose to be a first world country
and yet no one is safe
sending my child to school
i pray he’ll come back in one piece
going to work
I hope a mentally ill or disgruntled employee
doesn’t walk in with revenge in his mind
and a gun in his hand
and i’m even afraid of sex
birth control isn’t fool proof
and I’d be forced to carry an oops
are we going to back in time
or is this the new America?

apathetic voter

full of apathy-i no longer have the faith and hope in government I once had
i’m starting to think that renouncing my homeland was a waste to become an American
thinking my vote counted for something, that it meant something
aside from the ease of traveling
my situation is still the same
a working class reality where I’m still struggling
a high functioning mental case doing her best to survive
in a country that thrives on capitalism

polls

must I go to the polls and vote?
everyone tells me I must
to maintain my rights and for my future
but lately I feel apathetic about it all-
feeling I’ve never made a difference
feeling like it’s so much bullshit
but since I’ve heard Nazi sympathizers are in this race
and I’m an other
I”m forced to go to the stupid polls
for mine and my loved ones survival

these poems are from 2022 and I’m more disillusioned than ever with the government. I’ve always leaned towards being a liberal/democrat and while I’ll still go out there and vote for whatever is deemed the “lesser evil”, I absolutely hate that we don’t have a third option that’s way more humane. And for anyone who thinks, “well, you should go back to your country”, at this point, I am working on having that as an option in the near future. Going back to Peru last year and this year has given me a new perspective about everything my parents gave up to immigrate to this country and it’s overwhelming because it was a lot. While I understand their reasons and while Peru does not have the most stable government either, the quality of life there seems better in a lot of ways. Who knows what will happen next year with the elections but I’m making sure my kids have their passports and I keep my connections with family and friends in Peru.

poetry: obsessed

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

let me heal in hell

I wish I could forgive everyone who did me harm-
but something in me won’t allow me too
maybe it’s unprocessed trauma that still wants to speak-
about every single atrocity I’ve experienced
at the hands of those who said
they care for me and love me
I really wish I was better than this-
constantly holding onto these old grudges
but something in me still needs to heal
so I can stop obsessing about revenge

poetry: close to recovery

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

part of my recovery process

outgrowing old patterns is like I’m shedding my skin
And new healthy skin is replacing it
at times I want to scream and feel like I’m dying
and other times I’m fine
Am I finally close to recovery from BPD?

poetry: run

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

running in my hoodie
back when I used to run

The way my body feels as my legs take flight brings freedom to my soul
It brings me a sense of amazement thinking of how
I went from couch potato to a woman who needs a run in the sun
to feel grounded, to feel sane

poetry: falling apart

I wrote this poem in October of 2019.

bravery
I will rebuild

And just when I think I have it all figured out–
Everything falls apart again
the universe has a funny way of humbling me
just when I think I finally have it together
When does it get easier?
Am I being punished for not conforming
to society’s expectations of me?
Should I be sorry for not wanting to just be
a wife and mother?
Will I ever be free of society’s shackles
thrusted upon me?

poetry: the stranger

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

crazy eyes
me and crazy eyes

I don’t recognize the
Stranger in the mirror-
the me whose face
has more chiseled features
with a stronger jawline
and haunted eyes
There is no idealism
or fantasies of love
in her eyes
Instead, she stares back
at me with a look
of strength and determination-
like she’s saying –
“You’re your own savior “
and
“There’s no such thing as
Prince Charming”
-“The princess has been left
behind and you’re now a Queen”

poetry: how are you?

I wrote this poem in October of 2020.

hell yeah

He’ll ask me,
“How are you?
And I wanted to say–
“Miserable. Bad. sad. I hate you.
I wished for your death a thousand times.
I miss you. I love you.”
Instead, I said, “I’m okay”
And in the silence between our texts
I wondered
“Why? Why did he come back?
Why did I let him back in ?
Why do I love him?”

poetry: I forgot

I wrote this poem in October of 2019.

exactly

There were parts of myself
I forgot when I was with you
I forgot my self worth
I forgot my dignity
I forgot my self confidence
I made the mistake
of placing my worth and happiness
in your unsure hands
I made the mistake
of giving you my heart
I made the mistake
of not knowing when to walk away
I made the mistake
in believing you would change
I made the mistake
of wasting my time and love
on you

poetry: under

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me with one of my voices of reason

I feel left out by my friends and I cry and whine
“they hate me, I’m not good enough for them”
my voice of reason tells me
“it will be okay, you don’t need them”
it’s my sister

I break down in the middle of the sidewalk
and cry and scream
“I’m unworthy of love, I’ll be alone forever”
my voice of reason tells,
“that’s not true, you just need to focus on you boo”
It’s my son

my voice of reason has comforted me and loved me unconditionally
my voice of reason keeps me from going under

Poetry: Prodigal Daughter

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

this prodigal daughter got accidental bangs in Lima

the prodigal daughter returns to a homeland that she barely remembers
it’s been 32 years since she stepped foot on Peruvian soil
and this feeling is unworldly-indescribable-unimaginable
she was a child when she left
never quite understanding the whys or hows of her family’s immigration journey
in her adopted homeland, she suffered through hardships and failures
but the ancestors always protected her
from drowning in the immense waves of chaos and disasters, she ended up being tossed in
and she’ll go to their graves and pay reverence to them for shielding her from danger
the prodigal daughter returns, and she feels nostalgia rushing into her body and mind
she is finally where she belongs

Poetry: mistress

I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress
and failed every single time
I need to be the main character in my lover’s story
and not relegated to a dirty secret
the side chick that’s good enough to fuck
but not good enough for a relationship status
my love is immense and beautiful
and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it
I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy
I’m royalty and will treated as such

poetry: dreamy pisces energy

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

it be like that when you’re a Pisces

my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble
than it was worth
always viewing things in extremes
always making devils and angels out of people
who are really just mortals
my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse
or my biggest blessing depending on the season,
the weather or the day

poetry: whack an asshole

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

for real

I hope this story is buried for a final time
and you don’t pop up again
and I have to play whack an asshole
once again
blocking you on yet another platform
would the universe be kind enough this time
for it to be good riddance forever
cause I’m tired of my past mistakes
to constantly come out of nowhere
to disturb my present

poetry: rebranding

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

soft girl energy

I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am

poetry: motherhood

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

me with my youngest son

there are days I don’t feel strong enough to be their mom
maybe it’s insecurity that weighs heavily on me
after every fight, after every conflict
it was easier when they were small
and I was their favorite person
the one they ran to the moment I opened the door
nowadays I work much and they have their own interests
to have much to do with me
nowadays they bring up grievances of everything
I’ve done and am doing wrong
is this karma for being a bad daughter to my mom
is this karma for being selfish and self absorbed
for a few years of their lives
Who knows-
maybe it’s not about being strong, being right,
or being respected
maybe it’s about them knowing they are loved