another 4 years of trump and who knows if America will still be standing if anyone whoβs not male or white will still have rights another 4 years of trump and I see a future of fascism and dictatorship and U.S born citizens being sent back to their parentβs country of origin another 4 years of trump and Iβm not sure Iβll still be alive or at very least still maintain a semblance of my sanity
Home is my son’s laughter after a hard day home is the sun on my skin while I run home is peace and Tranquility after years of Chaos home is letting other see the real me and not some fake personality
it wasnβt until today I realized how ordinary you really were It wasnβt that you were ever that interesting or special It was me with my lovergirl delusional glasses refusing to see past what was in front of me Seeing and getting caught up in fantasies of who you could be when really you were, the most ordinary of men not malicious, not especially intelligent not really helpful just kind of existing without any spark without anything that would make me look twice at you now
Pretty gets me in a man’s door but also makes me feel like a whore I’ve been pretty sexy, pretty nice, pretty sweet I’ve also been pretty crazy, pretty Petty, and pretty mean men love me when I’m pretty and submissive but not when I’m pretty reclusive men want the pretty girl who’s fun but not when I’m a pretty girl who’s a selfish cunt pretty gets me notice but also gets me dismissed
with this new strain of COVID, all of my cell are mutating and regenerating and making be at a standstill where I have time to sit and think about what I really want, about whether or not Iβm doing enough to live a life worth living or if Iβm just existing in a routine of monotony that leads nowhere in a routine Iβve deluded myself into calling healthy but really itβs far from it
Men love a pretty mess like me especially the nice ones who want to fix me and save me Iβm their pretty princess whoβs so lovely and sweet And for some, my pussy makes them think or say they love me but when I turn from a pretty mess to a crazy and chaotic hurricane they can’t stand to be around me and run away βI never signed up for this, you’re toxicβ and I cry and then laugh at the absurdity you don’t get to choose just to love the fun part of me because that’s not love that’s their primal need and lust for me disguised as loved because real love accepts everything about me
the day I was told I needed a total hip replacement surgery
my body has betrayed me one last time and this time Iβll take charge of it and control whatβs happening this time Iβm old enough to stop this nonsense and kill whatβs causing me the most insufferable pain and Iβll replace the hip thatβs the vane of my existence, the diseased hip that must be sacrificed for me to stop the curse of martyrdom passed down for generations
I am a powerful force in this complicated world full of intelligence humor and intense sexuality men want to fuck me, women want to hate me both want to get near me I’m an Amazon goddess in a millennial mom bod I try my best to stay humble but have you ever been called the most beautiful woman in the world or has your power make grown men cry and run away from you it’s hard to stay down to earth when I hold so much power between my legs and my hands Soy una a mujer, made up of chaos and trauma who carries strength and resilience as her armor
to see my american dream I just need to step into my backyard and look at my holy trinity who call me mom theyβre the ones I try to better myself for theyβre the one who make my immigrant existence worth living for theyβre my american dream wrapped up in burps, dark humor and love
july, july, july itβs the month where I lose my mind the heat gets to me and turns up the BSC in me you wonβt find me sweet and eager to please in July you wonβt find me full of ruffles and flowery phrases in poetry youβll find me being a ball of immigrant rage and fury youβll find me a woman whoβs had enough of the American dream bullshit and ready to roar and scream out everything wrong with this country
WordPress Prompt: What are you most worried about for the future?
Things I’m currently crashing out about:
Finances-I’m in a financial hole due to loss income and medical debt. I’ve been in denial for such a long time about it but today I didn’t even have enough to cover my rent so I had to ask my other roommates for their share and one of them will move out soon. It’s been keeping up at night but I know I’ll dig myself out as I have done before. It just fucking sucks for now and makes me feel like a complete and utter failure. But there’s no time for me to lament and whine, I need to take action now and I’m doing it. I have to have blind faith that I’ll be fine and there is a light at the end of these really dark economic times.
CPTSD symptoms: Triggered cause of the heat, the stress and this time of the year. I’m managing not to have a total and complete emotional relapse by exercising, drinking my water and minding my business, watching movies with really pretty people in them, and acknowledging what’s happening by talking to close friends and writing. I honestly feel like if someone came up to me and gave me $10000, my CPTSD would completely disappear but that’s not real life. I’m trying to do better because last week I was a complete bitch to one of my friends and she didn’t deserve it. I apologized and owned up to it but damn I still feel bad about it.
And of course, existing while Latina in this country. With all the shit that’s happening I worry about my family members and myself. I try to take it day by day but the anxiety gets at 100 when I see a new headline pop up especially the latest one about stripping citizenship from U.S citizens. I have to laugh because one) I’m too medicated to cry and two) it’s really not worth getting so upset about something out of my control.
I haven’t done a WordPress Prompt in a minute and this one just gnawed and gnawed at me and I was like, hell, maybe I’ll feel better screaming into the void especially now that my nature spot is ruined. R.I.P my special creek. I hope that the next time I answer a WordPress prompt, it’s something where I answer the question and I’m a lot happier. I hope that in three months, I’ll look back on this post and I can see that I’ve made a lot of progress and I feel more balanced and hopeful and I can say, well, I made it and I’m more than okay. IF not, at least I will have written a lot more poems and stories.
denial sits in the pit of my gut but I disguise it with a smile and trips to the zoo act like domestic bliss is heaven when inside Iβm trembling with rage
envuelta en un ciclo de nostalgia cartas y fotos viejas y mΓΊsica de los 90 tratando de acordarme de quien fui Antes de me convertirme la madre de alguien