Aqui esta la version en espanol:
poesía: gracias a ti
cupid gets it wrong once again-
bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month-
This time he tells me,
“You’re cool enough to make out with
but not good enough for my mom”
I almost throw my phone across the room
instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay”
and take a pen to my rage on paper
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
You will always be a secret that I’ll regret
one that makes me full of shame and guilt
one I’ve tried to block again and again unsuccessfully
It’s something I will never talk about
it would cause my inner world much harm
so I’ll keep quiet about it
Swallow it whole
It’s a story of trauma that doesn’t need to be told
este poema lo escribí en el 2004 acerca de John. estaba bien amarga.
Alguna vez pensé
que tú podrías ser el hombre para mi
Pero eso se dio a perder
El día que tú me dijiste
Que no soy y nunca sería
Alguien especial para ti
Y llore y llore y llore
¿Por qué no me quisiste?
¿Por qué no me diste una oportunidad?
Para que puedas probar mi amor incondicional
pero ya no hay marcha atrás
Algún día te arrepentirás
Porque aunque tu desprecio
Me causó una gran desilusión
y no sabía qué hacer con tanto dolor
Tú hiciste lo mejor para mi
Porque gracias a ti
aprendí a sobrevivir
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
saint tracey assured me my life wasn’t over
she showed me love and compassion
when everyone else shunned me
she accepted me for who I was
and encouraged me to follow the path of success
she saw the hidden potential in me
when other teachers saw laziness
she was a prayer from God
sent to me to remind me
my mistakes don’t define me
and that I was still worthy of the love
and goodness in the world
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: So Many Things
la espada de tu repentino y agudo adios
me mato
y ahora me echo en mi cama moribunda del duelo
que llevo adentro-
rezando que Dios tenga piedad y merced
y que mañana no amanezca
porque no puedo tolerar esta vida sin ti
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
my aunt treated us like we were inferior and subhuman
constantly pointing out our flaws with subtle sarcasm
putting pressure on my mom to choose her over us
insulting my father or sister
what about us made her project her insecurities
Was it my dad’s intelligence or my sister’s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didn’t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my aunt’s abuse?
here is the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Our Spot
tus palabras me queman hasta que soy nada
fui otra aventura más, otro tiempo divertido
para alguien buscando huir de su monotonía
no hay nada más que decir o hacer
fingiré estar feliz qué decidiste regresar con ella
mientras me hundo en un ciclo de autodestrucción y remordimientos
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
in first grade, I learned to be ashamed and embarrassed of who I was,
and where I came from
maybe the nuns were ignorant of the damage they were doing
and since that time I’ve had identity issues
for years, i gave up my language and my heritage in order to fit in-
to have proximity to being an American
but all it did was fuck up my identity
and while I have forgiven the nuns for the damage done
I have a hard time finding compassion for myself
I have a hard time letting go the guilt
For the pain I caused my family
I have a hard time understanding I was just a kid
desperately trying to fit in, to belong, to be accepted
to conform of the standards of being American society fed me
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Dulce Realidad
getting to know the new you will be an adventure,
and a risk worth taking even if we crash and burn once again
because there’s no one else before or after who I loved more
Life on the BPD 