I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
Cry in front of me and show me your vulnerable side
I won’t run away or shame you for sharing your pain
I understand what it’s like to be left alone
when you start to drown in your emotions
and you reach for someone and that person
turns you away
I will never be that callous
when I say you can be safe with me,
I really mean it
aqui esta el poema original que inspiró este poema:
Poesía: Falso 2005
we were another lesson in love lost and mourned
I tried everything to make it work
even where it was past our expiration date
I never wanted our children to be products of a broken home
but even my best efforts could not fight how different we were
or our long term story of incompatibility
it wasn’t your fault or mine
we were just both too stubborn to see what was in front of us
a friendship that should’ve stayed platonic
but you fell in deep for me
and I was tired wanted to settle
and we made it work until one day I realized it wasn’t enough
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
My heart betrayed me last night
it was on the same page that I need to put any hope of love on hold
Until I’m free of my marital ties-
Until I’m no longer suffering of any residual trauma
from my last failed romantic relationship
but in one night, my heart betrayed my mind
And it felt euphoria and everything that comes with meeting
the potential of love
And while my mind tries to reign in my feelings
My heart says “sorry, we’re already in too deep”
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Andrew
cuando me preguntan acerca de mi primer amor
siempre pensaré en el
aquel muchacho alto con los ojos marrones profundos
fue el primero que me trato con respecto y como una princesa
Nuestro cuento de amor fue casi como una película de disney
fue algo mágico y bello
pero algo tan bonito no puede sobrevivir en este mundo cruel
lleno de realidades que se tienen que enfrentar
aunque nos amábamos con una pasión hecho de fuego
no fue suficiente y nuestra llama de amor se apago
y nos fuimos por caminos diferentes
el hizo su vida y yo la mía
pero aunque han pasado más de 25 años
cuando me pregunten que fue mi primer amor
siempre pensaré en el
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
a drunk driver hits an ambulance-
and there is outcry, an uproar over the craziness of it all
we all judge and hate the drunk driver without compassion
without looking in the mirror, without acknowledging
how most of us have made alcohol a staple,
a must need for celebration-
a must have for everyone no matter what social class you’re in
If I had a magic wand and I could un-invent something, it would be the concept of war. Maybe it’s the idealist that still lives in me that thinks humankind could be more evolved that who we are now. It’s inhumane and absurd that in 2024, innocent lives are lost, entire family lines decimated because some countries need to “win” and think they’re far superior than the “other”side.
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: My Pathetic Little Beast
cuando las lágrimas quieren salir
busco mi cuaderno y empiezo a escribir
dejo que mi pequeña bestia de creatividad
llena la pagina con todo lo que sofoco y suprimo
llena la pagina con el desmadre y las pendejadas
que ocupan espacio en mi mente
y escribo, escribo, escribo
hasta que encuentro claridad
hasta qué puedo respirar
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
They laid him on my breast and told me,
“Meet your baby boy” and I was in shock
the alien on top of me is mine?
this wasn’t supposed to be part of my adolescence
I’m only seventeen and some days I barely remember
to brush my teeth
and now I have this great responsibility
and his beady and angry eyes questions
as to why his comfort was disturb-he already hates the world
and I think , same, kid, same
WordPress, twitter
Instagram, facebook (ew)
tik tok (cringe)
and email(when necessary)
and occasionally tumblr
it’s how I share my art, my beauty,
my vulnerability with the world
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
I go between contacts and glasses to fit my different personas-
in my contacts I’m a pretty woman with makeup and a dress
I become the kind of woman men are nervous to be around
or get intimidated by
In glasses I don’t care to capture the male gaze or even mine
it’s when I work that second job or I’m at home
it’s when I allow myself to just exist
not caring about the pressure to be attractive
or allow my social conditioning to take over
and tell me since I’m this crazy, I need to be pretty, sexy, charming
to validate my existence
Lately I prefer my glasses, lately I want the freedom to just be
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
music and lyrics have always given me a sense of home-
it’s how I’ve grown and evolved
It’s how I learned to express my emotions
when I couldn’t make sense of anything
it fills my soul with love and creativity
it makes me feel a sense of belonging in this world
that looks down on dark and tortured souls
it eases off my loneliness
that sometimes makes me crumble
and leaves me in shambles
If I had my gluttonous way
and I wasn’t counting the sodium content
in fucking everything
I’d devour an entire bag of chili cheese fritos
in between purchase orders and writing poems
I’d stress eat the fuck out of them
I’d even offer some to my friends
everyone needs to taste this salty and crunchy treat
everyone needs to get addicted to this devilish snack
that had me buying 4 bags at the time when it was on sale
me and Chili cheese fritos were the most epic poem,
a match made in consumerist heaven
until middle age and genetics brought on high blood pressure
and my addiction to chili cheese fritos had to end abruptly
so for now, I’ll write silly poems about how I can’t have the one thing
I once was addicted to and still crave
and hope that once I get my blood pressure under control
I’ll be reunited with my comfort snack
and we’ll be together again as I write, as I cry
as I lay on the couch binge watching
some depressing show on netflix
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
does someone have a voodoo doll of me and stuck pins inside my head-
inside my heart-because lately I’m finding it hard to breathe
as my emotions consume and control me-
and I feel like the biggest failure and imposter for allowing it to happen
even though I still function well enough to mask
the mountain of turmoil and grief that’s currently residing me
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
Jealousy is a normal emotion of the human condition
and shame shouldn’t be associated with it
everyone feels it
I used to run away from it
but now I sit with it
ask what it needs
Sometimes it’s me projecting an insecurity
or sometimes it’s a legit feeling
And that’s okay too-
and jealousy doesn’t have to destroy anything
as long as I know how to acknowledge it
and don’t allow it to consume me
here is the link to the english version of this poem:
Ser poeta es una locura, una aflicción
es un desmadre que hago cada vez
que palabras de ira, de amor, de desgracia
aparecen en mi página
solo a una loca maldecida
se le ocurre hacer poesía
de sus aventuras y tragedias de su vida
Life on the BPD 