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Poetry: Caught Between

I wrote this 2001 when I took a break from writing angry breakup poetry-lol. As an immigrant that grew up here, I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life. Issues with identity are also another trait of BPD. I think this was a time in my life when I was especially reflecting on this part of my identity because I was become aware that men were fetishizing me.

me in 2001 around the time I wrote this poem

Caught between two worlds
what am I made up of more
hopefully I won’t ever have to choose
sometimes I wish to just cut loose

Too Latina for the American side
Too Americanizada for the Latino side
So what is the politically correct term for someone like me?
Not American, not born here
Not fully Latina either
for I lack that latin allure

So I’ll call myself one of a kind
a girl with much Latin beauty and an American mind
like a delicious half and half cream
whose taste is an amazing mixed dream

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Poetry: Did I Ask For Your Advice?

I wrote this poem is creative writing class in 2006. It’s some kind of form poetry but can’t remember what it is.

me around the time I wrote this poem

Did I ask for your advice?

Father and mother

You are not that wise

So I told a few lies

I didn’t mean to hurt her

Did I ask for your advice?

I had to break mine and her ties

Any words, please don’t offer

You are not that wise

I’m a man of twenty-five

Don’t treat me like a youngster

Did I ask for your advice?

Please don’t give me those eyes

And pretend to be higher

You are not that wise

Stop it with your sighs,

My dear mother and father

Did I ask for your advice?

You are not that wise!

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Poetry: Despicable

I wrote this poem in 2006 for my creative writing class. Men in general inspired this poem. Lol.

truth be told

Despicable is the emptiness of talk

It is that which makes me  gawk

The realization of your words so thin

Give my heart a monumental sting

I should’ve put on my idiot proof smock

You should’ve stayed silent as a rock

Instead of whispering nothings to me on the dock

That’s when I should’ve stopped listening

Despicable is the emptiness of talk

Your mouth should’ve been padded with a lock

Then you wouldn’t have taken me on a walk

To your park full of crock

I got on your moronic swing

I shouldn’t have answered your knock

Despicable is the emptiness of talk

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Poetry: Andrew

I wrote this inspired by the first time I met Andrew. I think I kept on thinking about him and getting nostalgic because I was so carefree and happy when I was with him.

Not a boy but not yet a man

He took my sweaty hand

Dancing was his aim

Andrew was his name

And with his clown feet

He showed me moves so weak

And an excuse I was about to invent

But then the moment went

And that was our when

 the slow music started to lure

strong emotions started to brew

Innocent love soon ensued

I was his world, he was mine

We were the most perfect rhyme

But then reality hit

A truth we couldn’t beat

And even though I’ve moved on 

It’s Andrew, I’ll always yearn for

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Poetry: Acknowledgement

I wrote this in 2006 thinking back on my time with Lucas.

Tired and contemplating life
me around the time I wrote this poem

A shadow of our friendship
is all there is left
After life gets in the way
of wanting something more
And when I see you around
A wave, a nod
An acknowledgement we once knew
Each other
Our conversations are now long gone
But we’re forever etched in each
other’s minds and dreams

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Poetry: Frustrating

I wrote this in 2006 when me and my husband were in this monotonous routine of kids, work, and school. I felt lonely in our relationship and it was hard for me to express it to him.

Loyalty and loneliness are a bitch.

It’s frustrating
Living like this
Without desire or passion
The only thing that’s left for us
Is to leave from here
This everlasting ocean of loneliness
In which we are drowning
And separately swim to the shore
of happiness
Where we both belong

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Poetry: Here We Go Again

Masking be like

I wrote this poem in late 2005 thinking back on how I felt about my second pregnancy when I found out. It wasn’t an ideal situation at all because I was still in college and my relationship with my husband was on the rocks.

Being Strong is exhausting
always

This can’t be
happening to me!
but rarely does it ever lie,
that second pink line
Just when I was on right track
Again I am burdened for lying on my back
What will I do?
Who will I turn to?
How do I tell them?
Once again I am their biggest disappointment
To just sit here and cry
is just a waste of precious time
I have no choice
I have to get away from this awful noise
This will become my personal hell
Because of another persuasive male

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Poetry: Refusal

I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was pregnant with my second child and mad at my boyfriend (future husband) for his lack of affection and attention to me. I was obviously very upset when I wrote this poem and instead of talking to him I wrote and bottled up my anger.

You refuse to see

All the hurt you’re causing me

With your indifferent ways

It’s a miracle you haven’t yet gone astray

You refuse to see

Our son is paying the fee

He may still be in my belly

But the tears you cause me

Also affect him

You refuse to see

That one day soon you’ll lose me 

If you don’t stop 

Being so fucking cold. 

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Poetry: Poor and Destitute

I wrote this in 2004 inspired by a rough family situation I was going through at the time. I needed to process what was happening in some way because I couldn’t confront the person. And well, I wrote this narrative poem.

Poor and destitute

in front of me she stood

asking for shelter and food

with tears streaming down her cheek

she kept on repeating

“let me stay with you tonight,

I promise, one day I’ll make things right”

I didn’t know what to do

for a while I just stood

trying to decide

if what I was about to do was right

so with pain in my heart

I had to say

“please go away”

she tried to resist

by giving me a guilt trip

and I  told her once again

“please go away”

she still wouldn’t listen 

and made me listen to her reasons

this time I lost control 

and yelled at her to

“PLEASE GO AWAY

IF YOU DON’T WANT ME 

TO GO CRAZY”

this time she listened to me

maybe she does care for me

it hurt to turn her away

but I couldn’t be swayed

to feel sorry for her

and allow her

to ruin my world

so in the end

this was the dreadful when

I would have to decide 

between saving her or me 

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Poetry: Dear Son

I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was frustrated with Matt and blamed him for my life going awry. Looking back, it was misplaced blame on a situation that only I had control over. At the time, it was much easier to blame Matt rather than take a look at myself and how I was responsible for the mess I made of my life.

Dear son

How do I stop

from feeling all of this resentment and anger

at the deadbeat who calls himself your dad?

Dear son

Will I ever feel better

about our almost dead-end situation

your dad has put us in?

Dear son

Will you ever forgive me

for not having everything

someone as wonderful as you should have?

Dear son

Can you show me where to

find a glimmer of hope

and that without him

 both of us will be alright?

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Poetry: Puppet

I wrote this in January of 2004 when things were good with my husband but I was already having lots of anxiety about our relationship.

Why couldn’t he see 

that him and I were meant to be?

Why couldn’t he say

that I was more than part 

of his wild phase?

Why couldn’t I be all he wanted

instead of sending my heart 

to its deathbed?

I will never love again!

Why couldn’t I see right through him-

Instead I let him pull me like a puppet

on a string

Why couldn’t he see that me and him

would make sense as a we?

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Poetry: To the Man I Can Never Have

I wrote this in 2003 about Lucas. I was again obsessing about him.

Everyday I think about you more and more
My heart can’t help itself
I close my eyes for a brief second
and your wonderful and attached self
is what my mind sees.
I catch myself missing you
and it doesn’t make sense to miss something
I never really had.
You did something to me
without having to do anything.
Maybe you accidentally put a spell on me .
I still can’t figure out why you,
Mr.Forbidden has become
my new unrequited love obsession
Maybe love really does come
out of the least expected place
Or maybe I will always
Desire the one that I can’t have.

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Poetry: Sponge

I wrote this in May of 2003 when I was going wrestling with a terrible bout of depression. I kept trying to find the light of the end of the tunnel but it was hard.

A sponge is what I am as I start
to absorb this mortifying
and painful experience
From a sponge I become
A meatloaf of frustration
From a meatloaf I become
A tall and full glass of self pity and regret
From the tall and full glass I’m trying
Very hard to become a hard rock of acceptance