Here’s is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Crooked Turn
otro giro equivocado más en el amor y perderé la fe para siempre
porque siguiendo repetir la misma tragedia
es una locura que está acabando con mi espíritu, con mi alma
mejor sería quedarme sola que seguir perdiendo partes de mi
por mi anhelo de ser amada
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Memory
fuistes la luz más brillante en mi universo de amor
quizás por eso pasan los años y no llegó a olvidarte
quizás por eso siempre regreso a ti para que me acuerde
que el amor no siempre es una mierda que se repite
cada vez que me enamoro
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Insecurities and anxiety from my immigrant childhood
Come out to play and my adult self wants to run away
I thought I was healed from this
I hate these triggers—but I still confront them even if I don’t want to
I cry and write about them, reprocess something not quite healed
Am I on the way to my recovery from BPD?
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Dear Brad
Queridisimo Brad-
lo siento por no dejar que me lleves a tu cama
y que me uses como te dé la gana
es que aprendi mi leccion
y ahora entendió que soy un tesoro
que no puede gastar su energía
en alguien que no mas me quiere
por un ratito y despues se va
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
At 5 am, I woke up and wrote a 4 page poem
about how I wasn’t enough and proceeded to crash my car
and my therapist asked if I wanted to die-
And I was like “nah, I just couldn’t reign my impulsivity in”
at least this time I got control of the car and didn’t fuck
anyone else up
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
The rain falls steadily in August
and I feel a sense of dread, a sense of hopelessness
and I want to dwell on everything I lack,
on everything I’m a failure at-
But I stop myself because while sadness has served as inspiration
and has a place in my mind and life
I can’t allow it to take over my life and consume me
because this is not my whole story
I’m more than being sad and angry
here is the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Stupid Game
Maldita sea este juego de amor
me siento un peón sin poder, sin control
y no importa lo que hago
siempre pierdo mi cabeza y mi alma
siempre pierdo mi razon y mi corazón
y terminó destrozada y lastimada
por ser terca y estúpida y siempre perder
sometimes I am Salma,
Sexy, alluring, playful
and a world of fun
Sometimes I am Sylvia
Angry, frustrated, contemplative
and fascinated with death
It depends on who I’m with
and which woman they inspire me to be
I want to find someone I can be both with
A man who loves both the Salma and Sylvia in me
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Lust High
por ti abriré el cerco alrededor de mi corazón
porque inspiras confianza y ternura
porque siento que contigo puedo encontrar la esperanza
de nuevo en entregar mi vulnerabilidad
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Adios
I keep my screams and cries inside for the sake of my pride
I’ll pretend I’m happy and fine
even as waves of infinite grief wash over me
and I’m drenched in humiliation and shame
for allowing myself to become the pawn in a game
played by another guy who’s only looking for a temporary distraction
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
Poesia: Algo Pasajero
I’m more than a temporary destination for men to lay their love in
I will no longer lay down and play princess
and adjust and accommodate to their egos and needs
when they can never make me a priority
when they can never acknowledge my humanity
from now I won’t allow anyone near me
unless they show themselves worthy of my time and energy
Aqui esta la version en español:
Poesia: Podría Ser
I’m not the woman of your dreams or the woman you’ll worship as a deity
or the woman who accommodates and bends according to your needs
but I’m the woman who’ll haunt you with the “what ifs”,
I’m the woman who’ll fuel your creativity,
I’m the woman who’ll make you believe magics exists
Aqui esta la version en español :
Poesia: Demaciado Sencilla
you told me I’m not wife material
so you dropped me like I was nothing
but not before you took me to your bed a few times
but not before filling my head with the illusion
that you wanted a future with me-
Are you sick in the head?
Is this how you always operate?
Finding an insecure girl to get your primal needs met
and later on dropping them like a bad habit
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
