I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
The emotional scars are starting to fade
As I’m starting a new phase
A phase full of love and laughter
A phase full of introspection and humility
and while I’m alone as I start this phase
I’m happier and healthier
I’ve taken off all of my masks
I’ve discarded my need to be loved and accepted
This is my era
One where I finally allow myself
To let others see the real me
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Mistake
maldigo mi existencia, deseo ser cualquier otra persona
siempre cometo el mismo error
alucinando que sexo es amor
cuando en realidad es mi obsesión tóxica
con ser deseada, y sentir que valgo algo
para otro ser humano
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I was trapped in a mental cage of misery
I didn’t know how to rewrite my story
and while poetry helped me
it was with grief and therapy I finally felt free
I learned to let go of old resentments and grudges
and healed old emotional bruises
and while I still have minor annoyances
my anger and angst no longer control me
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Gone
me desperte y encontre tu carta de despedida
me dijiste que tenias de dejarme,
ya no podías fingir que me amabas
Y que no eras el hombre que yo merecía
y era mejor decir adios que continuar tu farsa de amor
Y inmediatamente queme la nota
mientras maldecía nuestras existencias
llorando y ardiendo de rabia
porque denuevo me había metido con otro cobarde
que no pudo enfrentarme para despedirme de su vida
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
My disintegration looks like a tsunami that destroys me
I try to navigate the tidal waves of my emotions
and that tidal waves washes over me, and I’m overwhelmed
and my logic is short circuited, and impulsivity takes over
Oh shit I posted that
Oh fuck I bought that
Sorry, I didn’t mean that-
And I harm myself and others without malicious intent
and don’t remember how it happened
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
If you inspire me consider it a gift
it means you’ve made an impact on me
sure my words may feel angry
but that’s just me processing
because I have the most painful mental illness
and writing angry poems is how I deal with it
if you become my muse I must have felt something for you
could be hate or love
if you’re lucky, it’s both
that means you’ll be bestowed with endless poetry about you
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Error
forgetting him will be your biggest regret one day
as you grow older, you’ll wonder about what could have been
if only you had found your courage
if only you hadn’t been so passive
and now it’s getting too late for you to be a father to him
the seeds of resentment are growing in him
the damage of your abandonment is irreparable
Escribí este poema en julio de 2022.
No todo sale bien siempre
Pierdes amantes, puedes amistades
lo importante es que tu no te abandones
lo importante es que tu sigas amandote
porque los demás no importan
ellos agregas a tu vida mientras tu la completas
My future is a sky blue and full of potential
Now that I’ve walked away from anyone
or anything that limited me
I’ve let go of any grief I held within
I’ve embrace my crazy
and now let it out creatively
Is this the beginning of a new me?
Am I finally the person I was always meant to be?
Aqui esta version en Espanol de este poema:
Poesia: Moriste Para Mi
You were another mistake made
another one I’m throwing in the land of the forgotten
another one who couldn’t appreciate the rare and precious gem
that I am
another one who’ll inspire poetry about how my heart broke once again
by trusting the wrong man
I used to live in a world full of regret, sorrow, and resentment
until I no longer wanted to live in misery
so I let go of everything and everyone that didn’t serve me
and held onto everything and everyone who helped me grow
and now I’ve blossomed with love, with purpose and for once
I’m full of happiness, calm, and serenity
And I finally feel free to love my life,
to love who I’ve become
I wrote this in July of 2022.
Morning rain makes me want to lay longer in bed
and listen to music and cry
cry about everything that could have been
but instead I get up and start my day
even try to get excited about it
because if I give in to my depression
for even one day
my inner critic wins
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Extremely False
No me tomas en serio por ser pobre
piensas que solo soy buena para calentar tu cama
y me tratas como una muñeca que sacas solo para tu conveniencia
Esta estupidez para hoy porque encontré mi respeto y dignidad
He gastado demasiado de mi energia magica
En alguien que no puedes apreciar la diamante
que se presume enfrente de él
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I cloak myself in compassion and empathy with family and friends
but when it comes to myself-
I criticize and judge and tell myself I’m not worth it
But it’s time to turn this narrative around
I’m done, done, done
with being a self-loathing clown
and using self-deprecating humor doesn’t help me
it hinders my creativity and stops me
from unlocking the potential within
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Father Son Mile
por el bien estar de nuestro hijo tenemos que olvidar todo lo que alguna vez fuimos
tu tienes que asumir tu responsabilidad y yo tengo que dejar el pasado en paz
hay que empezar de nuevo y declarar una tregua
Hay que perdonarnos y convertirnos en los padres que el merece que seamos
Life on the BPD 