I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
Is this our new beginning?
our own personal spring
when we delve into lust
and almost mistake it for love
Where we’re almost lovers
Or is this another false dream
And you turn once again into
my unreliable love king?
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
lately I try to be a bigger person but last night was different
running into you when I’m at my hottest,
when I embody the picture of an Incan goddess
felt like sweet revenge,
it felt like karma served to someone who made me feel small
it felt like the universe smiled on me showing me once again
how I am winning and that anyone who’s fucked with me
will get what’s coming for them
and while I did feel sad for you
because of everything you went through
I still felt like a queen, a goddess with confidence
oozing from me
compared to you who will never fit into the new me
I wrote this poem in March of 2021
I was your short term adventure of lust
you tried to disguise as love
It was fun for a while
while we were both in denial
until you got tired of me and left
My broken heart, I had to atone
I don’t know how to go on
everything feels so wrong
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
When I tell you I’m a poet-
please take me seriously
don’t think I’m some cute girl
who writes a few verses in her room
about how your kiss is a new kind of heaven
Poetry for me has a much deeper meaning,
poetry is how I bleed out all of my emotions
I hold within
When I tell you I’m a poet-
please don’t laugh at me or mock me
don’t berate the simplicity of my words
I weave into verse
It’s how I make sense of my explosion of thoughts
It’s how I express what I can’t say out loud
When I tell you I’m a poet-
don’t try to cure me of my poetic nature
and prey on my insecurities and try to kill
my dreams of making my art seen
I know how the odds are stacked against
someone like me
I don’t do it to make it to the mainstream-
I do it so other women like me
can be seen, can be inspired to dream
And finally when I tell you I’m a poet-
Appreciate the artist in me,
make yourself a sanctuary to put my poetry in-
I’m not asking for endless compliments or an ego boost
I’m asking for a safe space in you to love
the poet I hold within
I wrote this poem in March of 2020.
His love is fire
And I keep getting burned by it
and even though his love burns me profoundly
Every time I get too close
I heal and vow to never see him again
But once again, his fire enchants me,
puts a spell on me
And I return to his burning love
Even when I know it means
I’ll get burned once again
Will my addiction to his burning love ever stop?
I wrote this poem in March of 2020.
I don’t want him to be a part of me-
And yet he appears
in my mind, my dreams, my poetry
He doesn’t deserve any amount of space
he comes to occupy in my life
And within me
-and yet he comes and stays
I tell him to go away
Stay away, and forget about me-
But it never happens that way
He consumes every bit of me
and it’s a lost cause to get him out out of me
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
life is full of making mistakes and then regretting them
It can’t happen any other way
because to be human is to make mistakes
to be human is a series of misadventures
where sometimes we lose our way
Life on the BPD 