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poetry: wild, wild west

I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

accurate photo of my wild wild west

it’s the wild wild west inside my head
it’s where my demons decide to come out to play
they dance with traumatic memories
making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface
it’s the wild wild west inside my head
being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic
scaring away any potential love candidates
it’s been a long time since I held someone’s hand
much less been in someone’s bed
It’s the wild wild went inside my head
And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave
so maybe one day I’m not so jaded
so maybe one day I give someone the chance
to take me out on a date

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poesía: mi cliente favorito

aquí esta la version en Ingles:

poetry: my favorite customer

era otra noche aburrida en el trabajo
estaba atrapada en la isla diez
entre alma naciendo productos
y mis pensamientos intrusivos
una canción de los 90s suena de la altavoz
y cuando voy a cantar
escucho pasos detrás de mí
me volteo y él está allí
mi cliente favorito, 5’10, cabello negro y crespo
labios carnosos y rojos, y un cuerpo hecho
por un dios griego
estaba mirando las ollas y sartenes
me volteó al revés para que el no me vea
y mientras amanecía los tupperware
le echaba miradas furtivas
esperaba que él no se daría cuenta
de mi porque estaba hecha toda
un desmadre para coquetear
y mi corazoncito muerto resucitó
y empezó a volar mi imaginación
con fantasías de nuestro primer beso
y justo alli
el se me acercó y pensé, “hay dios mio”
claro que me pregunto por una olla
que no teniamos
le dije que “no” y me disculpe
el me contesto “no paso nada”
con su voz quebrada
y rapido se fue
y me pregunte, “estoy alucinando
pero se me hace que el también esta atraido a mi”

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poetry: purpose

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

that cabinet also brings purpose to my life- it holds almost all of my stories

Open mics, family, karaoke nights, dance parties,
Tarot readings, poems written on sticky notes,
Epiphany after epiphany about how I have always been worthy,
Long conversation about life in coffee shops,
Trips to my dad’s hometown, sharing silly verses with friends
making dumb videos, coffee cups that say main character energy
dancing in car while I drive, taking picture of the moon
and everything else that brings me joy,
and every single experienced Ive lived,
every single person I’ve loved
is what my life’s purpose is about
It’s joy,hate, love, anger, empathy, envy
it all brings purpose to my wretched everyday
existence

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poesía: al otro lado

here’s the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11733

nos dejo de la noche a la manana
volo al otro lado
para encontrarse con su amado
dejándonos con un duelo inmenso
no hay lágrimas o palabras
para ablandar nuestro dolor
y ahora nos volvemos
en montañas de remordimientos
hasta que aceptamos
que el paso el tiempo será nuestro
mejor amigo para sanar
de su gran ausencia

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poetry: luchadoras

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

me in my luchadoras gear ready to go into my second job

I channel the luchadoras before me
the ones who had to work in the chacras
to provide for their families,
the ones who had to work with their bare hands
to build generational wealth
the ones who survived infidelities, abuse, and tragedies
and still came out on top as Queens
the ones who never had the option to lay down
and princess to be doted on, be taken care of
they had to become working class luchadoras
for the betterment of themselves
and their families

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poetry: unsolicited advice

truth!!!
Poetry: Did I Ask For Your Advice?

this is inspired by the 2006 poem, “did I ask for your advice”

well meaning unsolicited advice and opinions from others
Made me feel like I was a failure
like I wasn’t doing enough to better myself
it always comes after a life changing event-
a new baby, marriage, and most recently my divorce
In my 20s it drove me crazy
In my 40s I nod, smile, take whatever is helpful
and move on

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poetry: algorithm

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm fucks me up
Before the algorithm makes me feel like I’m not doing enough
before I lose my shit and say “this is bullshit”
and delete all of my social media apps
How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm makes me feel better
before the algorithm starts to validate my existence
Before some random stranger slides into my dms and tells me I’m pretty

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poetry: rebel without a cause

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

for real

My body slowly starts to rebel against the daily stress
I put on it
It says, “stop this nonsense, you’re trying to do too much constantly.
hardly stopping to catch your breath
Constantly moving with a fast pace, tying up your worth
with how productive you can be
when just breathing, just existing is enough”

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poetry: another new year

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

I love being a dumpster phoenix

another new year is here
another season of my life
will soon be renewed
more chances for new experiences
and adventures
more opportunities to fuck things up
and give fodder to the inner critic in me
to emotionally beat me up
more time to question myself
am I doing enough for me and my kids
to prosper
more moments of joy and laughter
with my boys as they get older
and continue to find their autonomy
more grief and sadness as the working class
and marginalized communities
continue to be stepped on
more memories made that ignite a spark
of creativity within me
another new year
another transformation under construction

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12th day of patty: no second thoughts

I wrote this poem earlier this month for a future version of myself. I wanted to end 2024 with a hopeful and romantic note.

lighting hits me and I’m in love all over again
this time I take my vows seriously
this time I believe in the whole
“til death do us part” bit
this time it’s far from perfect and ideal
but for once in my life
we’re enough for each other
and there are no seconds thoughts
that this is true love

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day 4 of Patty: Ancestor, Ancestor

I wrote this silly poem in April of 2024.

the real tragedy is no one has gotten me this cake yet

ancestor, ancestor-
which alcohol goes best with making shitty life decisions
ancestors says, not the PBR, not the michelob ultra light, it’s too basic of an energy
for the kind of epic shitty life decisions you tend to make
don’t reach for the margarita wine either, too obvious, too much of a cliche
and you already have plenty of them in your poetry
Go for the Guiness six pack
make your shitty life decisions with some English class
since most of your terrible decisions tend to include some asshole
whose ancestors are colonizer Englishmen

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day 1 of Patty: bridging the Gaps

I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

me at 5 vs me at 15

In bridging the gaps of my story that have remained unresolved
every story, every poem leads to pieces of healing and closure
I’ve been desperately search for since I can remember
Whatever my child self , my teenage self couldn’t voice back then
My middle age self brings to the surface
and while at times it’s difficult and terrifying
it’s needed in the process of healing and evolving

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poetry: future

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

It’s a beautiful life like Ace of Base said

the future of me is not written yet
I have to understand that
all I can do is write for her
who will still question her existence
or why things happened the way they did
or what the fuck happened to her
I know myself too well
it doesn’t matter how far I’m in my self discovery journey
I’ll always have questions
Its my insatiable curiosity
I can only hope that the future me has leaned into self love
More than ever before and still understands
she and her kids are her top priorities
Anyone else is expendable in her little universe of love

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poetry: browsing for potential on tinder

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

this is me for real—

I swipe and swipe on anyone who looks appetizing,
on anyone who looks interesting
and then the messages swarm in-
I must be honey to the bees who buzz and buzz around me
and I’m not impressed
Hey, beautiful says the guy with his catch of day
in his profile pic –
Are you DTF? Says the zoomer almost young enough
to be my son-ew-blocked
insert a pretentious line with a quote
From a Wallace Stevens poem ,  it’s the Genxer
who’s gross-ethically non monogamous-
I must not have been paying attention
while I was swiping
And the messages keep coming
And I’m overwhelmed by the amount of them
and underwhelmed by quality of them
and I’m nauseated and want to vomit
at the thought of giving any of these men
an ounce of my energy
maybe a past version of me
would have given them a chance
but this new and empowered version of me
Nah, none of them seem worthy
so I deactivate my profile
and uninstall the app
Understand I’m too evolved to find love online
and put my trust in the universe that one day
The right guy will find me
and I won’t even have to try
and until that time comes,
I’ll keep being an independent Peruvian Queen
Focusing on myself and my kids
without any mediocre energy
trying to intervene