another poem inspired by 2007.

denial sits in the pit of my gut
but I disguise it with a smile
and trips to the zoo
act like domestic bliss is heaven
when inside I’m trembling with rage
escribí este poema en Junio del 2024.

Entre la espada y la pared me encuentro otra vez
es tiempo para otra evolución, otro renacimiento
pero me siento cómoda donde estoy
me siento tranquila aqui
donde no tengo que dar explicaciones a nadie
pero el universo tiene otros planes para mi
pronto vendrá alguien o algo que me moverá el piso
y denuevo caeré en el caos sin querer queriendo
here’s the english version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12818
envuelta en un ciclo de nostalgia
cartas y fotos viejas y música de los 90
tratando de acordarme de quien fui
Antes de me convertirme la madre de alguien
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

as long as there is breath left in me
I will try
try to be a good mom to my kids
try to tell my story
try to love everyone the best way
i can
try to find understanding
for what happened to me
try to find joy in the most ordinary
of moments
try to dance my way through
my most depressive episodes
try find my inner peace and calm
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

hold onto hope, don’t let go
one day you’ll laugh about this
one day you’ll be okay
hold onto hope, don’t let go
Remember all of the times
you’ve been strong
Remember all of the times
you put one foot in front of the other
hold onto hope, don’t let go
your story is still being written
you’re still in time to change
your narrative
escribí este poema en Junio del 2024.

quizás es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que te olvides de mi
que pares de insistir en resucitar
nuestro cuento de amor
porque siempre vamos a querer
cosas diferentes
tu quieres una conexión superficial
lleno de noches apasionadas
y sabanas mojadas
mientras que yo deseo algo
profundo y puro
una conexión sólida
que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar
quizás es tiempo que le pida a la luna
que ya no me busques
porque por mas que yo quisiera
mi corazón no se deja ablandar
para ti por mas que lo intente

I’m used to being a doormat
always allowing people’s energy to pollute
my life and take up my time
it’s the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn
be easy to get along with with,always avoiding conflict,
become the person they want me to be, always easy to digest and swallow
cutting away pieces of my authenticity-
never valuing myself or putting myself first
It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family
Internalized misogyny sold to me at young age
dressed up as selfless acts of love
but I’m done sacrificing myself for others
It’s time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being
I refuse to passed this down to the next generation
of woman who come after me
I’m here to take up space, roar like a lioness
and passed down a new legacy of self love
that took me 41 years to learn
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me
but I’m starting to think he doesn’t exist
I swipe and swipe on the dating apps
but no one is of interest to me
and so I find solace in an unrequited love
that will never be more than friendship
it’s the best I can do to quell the romantic in me

when I’m happy and calm
I wear my stagnation balm
I can’t find anything inspiring
when my sanity is not hanging by a string
it makes me miss the former chaos in my life
that inspired me to write, write, write
when I was emotionally unstable
the words just seemed to fly onto the paper
now that my life is boring
the muse is not roaring
maybe it’s time to try
to stop these unproductive sighs
I will no longer live the writer block’s lie
yes, I can write when I’m sane
inspiration doesn’t need to wane
inspiration can be found in the mundane
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

my body feels like a rundown shack
that’s crumbling down slowly
I can’t get up in the morning
without my knee or hip
bitching and moaning
without me groaning in pain
and mumbling to myself
“Omg, another stupid day”
and cursing my genetics
that make me watch everything
I eat
and again I wonder
am I paying a karmic debt
for my colonizer ancestors

Out of the saddest minds
Comes the greatest creativity
I wonder why that is–
Is it because there are
No boundaries set in our minds?
Is it because
We live 100 lives
In 1 lifetime?
Is it because we are easily
Inspired by devastation and loss?
It is because pain and sadness
Flows out of us
More easily than others

He lies in the scent
Of our lovemaking
On love stained sheets
From “us”
He lies with an
Angelic look on his face
With a recently delivered
Afterglow of new love
He lies in the freshly made world of intimacy
We have just created
He lies with eyes shut
And heavenly blood red lips
That call me baby
And I get ready to leave
With dreadful
Back to the reality
That doesn’t include
My Adonis