me in my luchadoras gear ready to go into my second job
I channel the luchadoras before me the ones who had to work in the chacras to provide for their families, the ones who had to work with their bare hands to build generational wealth the ones who survived infidelities, abuse, and tragedies and still came out on top as Queens the ones who never had the option to lay down and princess to be doted on, be taken care of they had to become working class luchadoras for the betterment of themselves and their families
aol chatrooms serves her purpose for attention and validation slowly Lacy become a love junkie with a combo of low self worth and undiagnosed mental illness she never feels like she’s enough so she uses her beauty and her body to search of wholeness no one thinks to stop her or monitor what she’s doing online has plenty of dates with strange men in parking lots at 16, she feels on top of the world sneaking hits of lust After school and on weekends using her friends to cover for her never thinking of the consequences and always living for the moment
I wrote this poem in January of 2024 for my friend Rosie who died in 2023.
me right after I wrote this poem
it was a wintry and rainy day in Georgia when last goodbyes were exchanged between you and and your boys you were thousands of miles away in Texas, in your hospice bed I imagine you were full of peace in your last conscious moments finding comfort in your faith and accepting this was part of God’s plan but I-I carried rage that you were leaving everyone behind rage your husband would become a widower, rage your sons would grow up without a mom rage for the grief of everyone who would have to live without you rage that on the 29th of June, there wouldn’t be a random happy birthday from you for William, Miguel and all of the babies in our July mommy group born on that date rage that I didn’t get to know you better and that rage broke my brain, and I drove without a destination maybe it was your spirit that led me back to the safety of my boys but almost a year later I still carry that rage of how I don’t understand why God took you you who still had more than love to give and receive you who was the warmth of a sunny day in human form What was the purpose of your sudden departure?
this is inspired by the 2006 poem, “did I ask for your advice”
well meaning unsolicited advice and opinions from others Made me feel like I was a failure like I wasn’t doing enough to better myself it always comes after a life changing event- a new baby, marriage, and most recently my divorce In my 20s it drove me crazy In my 40s I nod, smile, take whatever is helpful and move on
How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm fucks me up Before the algorithm makes me feel like I’m not doing enough before I lose my shit and say “this is bullshit” and delete all of my social media apps How long do I have to scroll before the algorithm makes me feel better before the algorithm starts to validate my existence Before some random stranger slides into my dms and tells me I’m pretty
My body slowly starts to rebel against the daily stress I put on it It says, “stop this nonsense, you’re trying to do too much constantly. hardly stopping to catch your breath Constantly moving with a fast pace, tying up your worth with how productive you can be when just breathing, just existing is enough”
I was ready to give up Until I felt a sudden caress on my hand you looked at me with desire, and I blushed and our passion was awakened from a year-long deep sleep Is this a short-lived daydream? or the impossibility of our new reality?
my life flashed before my eyes as a fog took over my mind and body What would happen to my ex? What would happen to my kids? they can’t function without me I’m the one who makes sure the rent and electricity get paid I’m the one who always takes the initiative to better our family I’m the one who’s trying to break generational curses so my kids don’t suffer as much as I did my life flashed before my eyes, and I mentally prepared a list in my head of every one of my children’s milestones i would miss out on if God took me now and as the fog finally started to lift I thanked God for his mercy and understood the message from the universe I really need to take better care of myself my health can never be taken for granted I’m too important for my family, my friends to learn to live without me this was my great awakening
hope is found in a lucid dream- It’s a whisper reminding me, “it won’t always be like this” it’s my abuela telling me “tu vida apenas está comenzando” and I wake from the fog of existential dread I’ve been feeling lately-
another new year is here another season of my life will soon be renewed more chances for new experiences and adventures more opportunities to fuck things up and give fodder to the inner critic in me to emotionally beat me up more time to question myself am I doing enough for me and my kids to prosper more moments of joy and laughter with my boys as they get older and continue to find their autonomy more grief and sadness as the working class and marginalized communities continue to be stepped on more memories made that ignite a spark of creativity within me another new year another transformation under construction
I wrote this poem earlier this month for a future version of myself. I wanted to end 2024 with a hopeful and romantic note.
lighting hits me and I’m in love all over again this time I take my vows seriously this time I believe in the whole “til death do us part” bit this time it’s far from perfect and ideal but for once in my life we’re enough for each other and there are no seconds thoughts that this is true love
I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me as I sing out my guts to lyrics that reminds me of you the worst of my ideas, the worst of my crimes I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me hoping that this is the last bit of closure I need from you and that from now on we’ll both live our lives free and clear of each other and soon you both fade into the background of my memory and soon you stop showing up in my dreams
my low rent bennifer phase lasted a total of 19 days before I blocked him
just call me J.Lo without the ass because my ex (if we can even call him that) came back to me after 2 years of sobriety we’re the low rent version of Bennifer except we’re not millionaires or celebrities (yet) I’m just a working class immigrant poet and he’s my ex whatevership Nordic muse
beast hurry up and come find me it’s been a year since I’ve been married two years since I had sex and three years since I’ve been in real relationship I’m a thirsty and horny yearning to break my vow of celibacy
Life on the BPD 