this poem is inspired by the 2006 poem “frustrating”

not even a year has passed
and thereβs an ocean between us
desire and passion once shared
evades us
as we fall into an oblivion
of obligations and routine
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
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
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.

itβs the wild wild west inside my head
itβs where my demons decide to come out to play
they dance with traumatic memories
making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface
itβs the wild wild west inside my head
being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic
scaring away any potential love candidates
itβs been a long time since I held someoneβs hand
much less been in someoneβs bed
Itβs the wild wild went inside my head
And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave
so maybe one day Iβm not so jaded
so maybe one day I give someone the chance
to take me out on a date
aquΓ 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 canciΓ³n de los 90s suena de la altavoz
y cuando voy a cantar
escucho pasos detrΓ‘s de mΓ
me volteo y Γ©l estΓ‘ allΓ
mi cliente favorito, 5β10, cabello negro y crespo
labios carnosos y rojos, y un cuerpo hecho
por un dios griego
estaba mirando las ollas y sartenes
me volteΓ³ al revΓ©s para que el no me vea
y mientras amanecΓa los tupperware
le echaba miradas furtivas
esperaba que Γ©l no se darΓa cuenta
de mi porque estaba hecha toda
un desmadre para coquetear
y mi corazoncito muerto resucitΓ³
y empezΓ³ a volar mi imaginaciΓ³n
con fantasΓas de nuestro primer beso
y justo alli
el se me acercΓ³ y pensΓ©, βhay dios mioβ
claro que me pregunto por una olla
que no teniamos
le dije que βnoβ y me disculpe
el me contesto βno paso nadaβ
con su voz quebrada
y rapido se fue
y me pregunte, βestoy alucinando
pero se me hace que el tambiΓ©n esta atraido a miβ
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

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 dadβs 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 Iβve loved
is what my lifeβs purpose is about
Itβs joy,hate, love, anger, empathy, envy
it all brings purpose to my wretched everyday
existence
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
dejΓ‘ndonos con un duelo inmenso
no hay lΓ‘grimas o palabras
para ablandar nuestro dolor
y ahora nos volvemos
en montaΓ±as de remordimientos
hasta que aceptamos
que el paso el tiempo serΓ‘ nuestro
mejor amigo para sanar
de su gran ausencia
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

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

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 wasnβt 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
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 Iβm not doing enough
before I lose my shit and say βthis is bullshitβ
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 Iβm pretty
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

My body slowly starts to rebel against the daily stress
I put on it
It says, βstop this nonsense, youβre 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 enoughβ
I wrote this poem in January of 2024.

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
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 Iβm in love all over again
this time I take my vows seriously
this time I believe in the whole
βtil death do us partβ bit
this time itβs far from perfect and ideal
but for once in my life
weβre enough for each other
and there are no seconds thoughts
that this is true love