I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
the plane slowly takes off
and I take flight with it
I leave behind past troubles,past trauma
and go on an adventure
to find healing and the best version of myself
poetry: flying to Lima
poetry: last time
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
last time I saw her, she was on her 5th husband
she didn’t know how to be alone, stand up on her own
always needed a man by her side
and even as she aged and her looks waned
she had her aryan blonde blue eyed looks to get her by
it was a crystalized existence
something about her frozen in time
someone had never taught her that alone
she was enough
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poetry: beautiful
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
and the roses never wilted,
they just transformed into flowers
never seen before
for a while it looked like they were dying
as they slowly turned gray and then black
but then they bloomed into something different,
a unique kind of beautiful
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Poetry: gratitude
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
gratitude taste like mami’s sopa de pollo
gratitude smells like my lover’s cologne
gratitude feels like a warm hug from my son
gratitude sounds like my sister’s car in my driveway
gratitude looks like me looking at the Goddess in the mirror
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poetry: sometimes
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
sometimes I feel like I invade places I’m not meant to be in
I feel too immigrant, too loud, too intense, too othered
but then I remember, I’m not doing this just for me
I’m doing this for all of the version before me
who couldn’t have ever imagined taking up spaces
in places that felt foreign to her
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poetry: complete
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I planted my feet on the soil I was born on
until I breathed the air my parents and ancestors inhaled
until I tasted flavors from almost a lifetime ago
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I returned to my homeland
and it was the piece of the puzzle found
I needed to finally complete me
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poetry: lukewarm
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
Lukewarm response as I suggest coming to see you
and my gut tells me something is amiss
telling me you miss me
but dodge an opportunity to see me
Can’t say why or make plans to see me
and I change my relationship status to single
confused, frustrated
not understanding how I got here
almost begging another man for crumbs
of affection for the bare minimum
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poetry: slightly damaged
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
mami cocoons me in her warmth, holds me carefully so I don’t break
I’m her porcelain baby doll
she nurses me back to health with devotion and dedication
I’m a gift from the heavens-
an unexpected surprise sent to complete our family
and she doesn’t care if I came slightly damaged
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poetry: mt. Everest
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
the gaslighting, the love bombing, the disappearing
weren’t the worst of your crimes
but together they added up to a mountain of trauma
It was the mt.everest of traumatic experiences
constantly making me wonder about the karmic debt
I was paying
making me wonder why I kept you in my life
allowed you to take up space in my mind and poems
sometimes I think I kept you solely for the fountain
of inspiration you drew out of me
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poetry: raining in paradise
I wrote this poem in September in 2022.
without a care in the world-we danced in the rain
enjoying the last vestiges of childhood
feeling the wet ground against our feet
stomping and laughing
and enjoying the miracle of this moment
as it rained in paradise
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poetry: the one
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
I’m an expert at navigating the gray and vague trying to romanticize
and make fires out of the smallest of sparks
deluding myself into thinking if I stick around long enough
He’ll realize I’m the one
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poetry: free
I wrote this poem in September of 2021.
I long to run free in a world free from prejudice and pride
I long to run free in a world free from judgment and ignorance
I long to run free in a world that accepts people like me
I long to run free in a world where I’m not hypervigilant
about toning myself down
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poetry: karma
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
karma bit me and now I’m paying for all of my emotional crimes
now I’m met with silence and indifference
and I go and examine what was the final straw
which post led you over the ledge
from friendship to being acquaintances once again
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Poem: Nothing
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow. **This poem went through heavy edits in June of 2026.
Tell me I’m beautiful, tell me I’m sexy
Objectify me, sleep with me
breadcrumb me, ghost me,
then try to come back to me
And when I deny you
insult me, threaten me,try your best to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first but will be the last
who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first but will be the last
who treats me like your on call whore
You’re not the first but will be the last
who tells me I’m not good enough
and after all that, try to come back again
and
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry, tell me you LOVE ME
Be persistent in your quest in trying to bed me with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
and how we have history
so I can laugh and laugh and turn you down
and watch you sulk
honey, I know you watch me on social media
so you should know better than to ever come back to me
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poetry: pick me family line
I wrote this poem in September of 2025.
me and my cousins followed in our abuelas footsteps
having kids out of wedlock with men
who abandoned us and becoming the other woman
and God bless our parents for trying to break
this unhealthy cycles
but Gabriela’s blood is too strong for any of us
to fight off properly
so at some point as we come into adulthood
we search for love in the wrong places like her,
become pick mes and suffer the consequences
of our actions
Life on the BPD 