Lisa 

Lisa

By: Jenny Alforria

Lisa died as a crack head on the street

As a hoe

And a thief

No good for anything

But before you pass these judgements

Let me tell you Lisa’s story

Then let me know

what you think

Lisa was once a child

Had it difficult growing up

Was molested by her step father

at 8 years old

Physically abused by her mom

She stayed home a lot

Taking care of her siblings

was her job

She was always told she wasn’t nothing

From the day she was born

Finally told her mom

about her step dad molesting her

when she became 10 years old

Mom didn’t care

what was happening to her every night

Cuz at the end of the day

he’s bringing home the money

And she should be happy

she has a father figure in her life

So Lisa didn’t talk about it anymore

Continued to lay there

and num her brain

as he came in her room at night

Then at 13 years old

she began getting attention

from other guys

That attention was love to her

The only way she felt beautiful inside

Got her self a boyfriend

who was 25 years old

He was a drug dealer

Didn’t care about her

Sad to say this was a break

from her abuser at home

Even though

Her boyfriend sold her body to his friends

She thought this was love

And

That’s when

Her best friend

Became drugs

She hated herself

but her boyfriend made her feel

like she was worth while

Until she got pregnant at 14

He told her to get out of his life

She had to give up the child

she was called a whore by her family

Then she was placed into a foster home

They couldn’t handle her issues

They didn’t know she was trying

But she couldn’t adjust

to this type of thing

She felt misunderstood

So she ran away at 16

Sex was love to her

It boosted her self esteem

She sold her body to men

That’s the only thing she felt

she really knew

Her teachers always told her

she was a bad kid

So she didn’t see a chance

of making it through school

Moved in with abusive dude

after abusive dude

Like this was normal to her

But this is how she got through

When she became an adult

she went from pills to crack

Neighborhood made fun of Lisa

She wasn’t nothing but a hoe

and a crack head

they said

She became so desperate

to feed her drug habit

She became a theif

Stealing tvs from all her friends

Couldn’t trust her with anything

The life she was living caught up to her

When she robbed a drug dealer

she was seeing

Sold her body to him

Manipulated him

Then robbed him

for thousands and thousands of dollars worth of things

So he raped her with his crew

Beat her till she bled

Cut up her body

Then threw it in a trash bag

But if you ask anyone

They say she had it coming

She was no good

A crack head ,

A hoe,

and a thief

No one would say Lisa had it hard

That at one point

She was actually trying

No one would explain how

she was victimized her whole life

No one would remember her as anything other then a crack head

A hoe

And a theif

No one will see

how Lisa was just responding

to her environment

That she was a symptom

Of a sick society

No one will even identify her as Lisa

Once an innocent child

Society made Lisa

ostrachized her for her crack head ways

And when they were ready

they threw Lisa away

No one will see

She was murdered by society

society killed an innocent child

Not a crack head

A hoe

Or a thief

So now that you heard Lisa’s story

let me know

what you think…….

My Life In Active Addiction

My Life in Active Addiction

By:Jenny Alforria

Do you know how it feels

to have a pain so deep

that it will never heal

….you are just left so emotionally disabled to the point it impacts you

mentally and physically.

You lost something so special

that words can’t even articulate the pain.

You are left emotionally paralyzed

from the pain you suffered,

only no one can see

that the pills are the cane…..

Your disability is invisible to society

and you pretend you’re fully functional

and it wears you out more and more.

Your mind is like the legs

you shouldn’t be walking on.

You do everything you can

just to keep pace.

Just to be normal,

work a job,

go to school, Etc…..

but you are not Normal…..

and it hurts when no one sees it

but it hurts to let people know…..

That you have a pill problem,

want to kill yourself

and you don’t know what to do.

So you just try to be like everyone else,

so you try your best to push through

and appear normal…

just so you’re not left feeling alone,

but you’re alone anyway

when you come home

and the cane is on the bed side

and you’re crying from all that pain of walking all day long…..

You’re so fuckin tired

and you’re so sick

and you’re so lost

and you can’t for the life of you

get the help you need

because your disease

and your suffering and pain is invisible. And you planning out the suicide

all in your head.

How, What, Where, and When…..

my depression and self medication problems are eating at me,

but I act like I have them under control

but I don’t…

I’m just good at fooling everyone I know due to the costume I put on,

my disease looks at society like a show. Shit I even fool myself…

How do I articulate I need a hug,

but also someone to come over my place every now and then….

Maybe with some take out….

just friends to come by regularly to hang out with me.

I don’t even need to be understood

as much as I want to be cared about

and shown that I exist

and that I matter to people.

Cuz right now I feel like taking all the pills i got

and drifting away in the tub.

Forgetting all my pain,

ignoring all the scars.

That way I no longer will need this cane. No longer worried about pretending to walk.

Just let my body emerge in the water…

and stop this psychological pain

and most of all

end the pain I feel in my heart

No Self Love 

No Self-Love

By: Jenny Alforria

People told me all my life

that I can’t love no one else

till I love myself

I can’t find love

from someone else….

Majority of my life I been abused

The people who were supposed to love me were the ones who hated me

They have put these things in my mind

that I’m not good enough,

that I’m only meant to be used.

But you tell me I have to love myself….

I’ve been told I was nothing for years

Face your fears

and wipe those tears

Baby you’re gorgeous…

but I get taken advantage of…

Can you see why

I have this fucked up definition of love.????

I’m told to accept myself

and move on from the past

Kind of hard to do

when the self I am

is the one you tell to wear a mask.

The point is

I’m starting off from scratch

Don’t know how to love myself

or where to begin.

I’ve been running around in circles aimlessly trying to love from within

But maybe I’m so loving to others

because I can see myself inside them

I don’t have an objective point of view when it comes to loving me.

So I have to look outside myself

to find my own beauty,

I get judged for this,

but I’m sorry this is me!

So when I give,

when I kiss,

when I make you smile,

laugh,

and make your day

I finally see my own beauty

that my past has hidden away.

Through you I love myself,

I’m sorry I’m this way….

Dress Up 

Dress Up

By:Jenny Alforria

Do you know what it’s like to drown in your own depression

and hope you don’t wake up out of your sleep

Do you know what it’s like to hate your self and your body,

but wanting it to be loved

but wanting no one to see you because of your low self esteem….

Do you know what it’s like to

cut your arms and cry just for a release.

Self hatred, drugs, sex, and alcohol becomes the only things your body needs

Do you know how it’s like looking in the mirror for hours

but never really looking at you.

Trying to hang out with people and pretending to be happy…

but you never really are.

Do you know what it’s like running away from your own truth…

I just want to find a resting place…

somewhere away from myself.

Cuz my spirit is in hell….

and God showed me heaven,,,,,,

but heaven seems far away when the drugs, lust, love, material things

and me are in the way…

slowly stripping the costume away

to the little girl who’s tired of running away…

exhausted and malnourished from poison and self abuse….

I act like I love myself to the point the world believes that lie…

but somewhere deep inside I’m dying and I want to feel alive…

trying to find my life in recovery trying to heal the girl inside,,,,

helping her to grow into a woman so she can match the outside too….

sometimes I feel alone…like no one cares about me, like no one understands…

and sometimes I wish people loved the inside just as much as they loved the outside…

or maybe even more..

and I dress the outside up because I feel like no one will like the little girl 😢

My Romance with Addiction 

My Romance with Addiction

By: Jenny Alforria

He walks besides me,

lays in my bed

He caresses me

while he tells me how bad

he wants me dead

He kisses me softly,

I’m trying to hate him

but I love him instead

You would think he’s a real man

but he lives in my head

He massages my shoulders

telling me to sip a drink and pop a pill.

He buys me a rose

while he steals

He steals my joy,

sanity

and peace of mind

While he softly pulls a mask over my eyes

He tells me I’m beautiful

when he tells me to put poison in me at night

He gently gets on top of me

while he tells me to get high.

He tells just do it one more time,

you’ll be just fine.

No one will know, just sip this drink….

please just get high.

He tells me it will be ok

just do one line,

just this one time,

but the reality is one time turns into two,

two turns into three,

three turns into three times too many

to the point I will give up on me.

This is the reality of my disease….

dependency on substances that will kill me.

My body craves for death,

my disease whispers to me to just have one drink.

My brain is twisted,

my thoughts distorted,

and my body shouts out for a high

that last temporarily.

All to make me lose my mind, body, spirit and all my good opportunities.

My disease tells me to give up

and give in to a temptation.

This disease kisses me,

lust over me,

and there are times I smile at it….

and there are times I hold its hand too.

But i can’t make love to addiction any more.

I can’t get consumed.

I have to acknowledge addiction doesn’t love me

it wants me dead.

denial comes down on me

when I don’t want to accept the truth.

Addiction will never be satisfied,

never quenched,

never full.

Addiction lives with me

and constantly gets in my head.

And even when I hate it….

I love it instead.

Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

By:Jenny Alforria

 

I look in the mirror all the time,

hoping that I see

Something other than ugly,

maybe someone other than me

I look in the mirror

with feelings of not being good enough

For the people who see me

I want to know why,

but there’s probably not one miracle answer

to the question that I seek

I look in the mirror seeing that I’m weak,

until I put on my makeup to cover up the low self-esteem.

I look in the mirror seeing all the imperfections

I wish I could instantly change,

not just the image, but also the pain.

I have been mistreated,

unloved,

abandoned,

and literally had the door slammed in my face.

And these things that were done to me,

is apart of the image I see everyday

Emptiness becomes unattractiveness

Fatigue becomes fat.

And I look to the mirror for validation of beauty

that I can never see

Because I can never compete

with the self-image I want to see.

I debate whether or not

I hate the woman inside of me

or the woman I see standing in front of me.

Or do I have a level of hate

towards all the dimensions of me

If the image changed,

would I finally be comfortable within me?

Or if I changed within myself

would I see my physical image differently?

And if I become good enough for society

Would I ever be good enough for me?

Or if I become good enough for me

Would it matter what society thinks?

But all I know is when I look in the mirror

ugliness is all I see.

Superficial

Superficial

By: Jenny Alforria

My wounds make you feel uncomfortable.

My depth scares you away.

My intelligence makes you non functional.

And my heart is too much for you to take.

My strength intimidates you.

My seriousness confuses you.

My goals make no sense to you.

But my exterior beauty attracted you

and fooled you.

You thought I was just another pretty face.

It’s a shame because my interior is even more beautiful,

But you rather run away.

My Trapped Soul

My Trapped Soul

By: Jenny Alforria

 

Pass the exterior is my soul…

My ego has had its daily dose

I feel like I can conquer the world….

But if you look deep within

you’ll see the little girl.

Oh yes the ego has been stroked

But not the soul…..

The void is this bottomless pit 
with a superficial glow……

never have I made love to someone

never did someone really know

Buried deep inside is that little girl

who never got the chance to grow

She’s lost somewhere still in that abandoned home.

And I have become addicted to all these superficial things…

But deep inside somewhere I want help

Somewhere inside I want others to know I’m suffering.

That I want a deeper love than the high I get from percocets and zanies.

But don’t know where to find it

So drug addiction became the closest thing

Pass the exterior is my soul

and inside I’m suffering.

Active Addicts as Parents 

Active Addicts as Parents

By:Jenny Alforria

Mommy!

can you play with me?

Daddy!

can I come in?

Mom where’s Daddy?

Daddy where’s Mom?

Mommy pleasseeeee!

can you play dolls with me?

Daddy pleasseeeee!

can you take me to the game?

Mom and Dad

where are my Christmas gifts?

Mommy..I wish I can have friends over…

Daddy….I wish I can be like all my other friends

Mommy and Daddy I feel so alone..

Mommy and Daddy gets sick,

vomits,

and lose weight

Kids make fun of your Mom

Kids make fun of your Dad

DHS takes you away

Daddy dies

Mommy commits suicide

You become an addict just like them

Then you grow up

and you’re told to get over it

and let it go….

Birth of the Dark Angel 

Birth of the Dark Angel

By:Jenny Alforria

 

I have to live in the darkness

to live in the light

I have to embrace the chaos

in order to take flight

I have to feel the pain

in order to feel joy

I can’t run from the darkness

that gave birth to my soul.

It’s ok to be a dark angel.

Many don’t know that….

constantly searching for happiness

takes people’s souls.

The constant fight for happiness

causes addiction to drugs and material things

Sometimes living in the dark

is what your soul needs.

Avoiding the pain

causes you to run to deadly things.

Embrace those tears

it is what your body needs!

Have acceptance of the pain

that gave birth to your soul.

Running away from darkness

causes destruction of your soul.

When this dark angel plays

no one understands

That the pain created her

That she’s free because she’s sad

She no longer goes on endless drug trips

To escape the trauma she has endured

People don’t understand

the pain is the cure!

She accepts the terrors

and the trail of tears

And the robbery of her childhood years

Pain made her beautiful

Pain made her the woman you see today

This dark angel is me and

I am no longer ashamed ❤️