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
the story continue from 2007 on with this poem.
caught up in a cycle of nostalgia
old letters and photos and 90s music
trying to remember who I was
before I became someone’s mom
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
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
lately I hate everything I have written
Sometimes I get the urge to burn
Or delete everything
but something tells me
this is how I know I’m growing
I’m evolving in my craft
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
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
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
you’ve change from spring to autumn within moments
never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve
never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism
I’ve made it as simple as possible for you
and nothing happens
and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble
than it was worth
always viewing things in extremes
always making devils and angels out of people
who are really just mortals
my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse
or my biggest blessing depending on the season,
the weather or the day
I search for peace and tranquility but it evades me
sometimes I find it but it quickly dissipates
Feeling so much all of the time gets exasperating
I yearn for a vacation from this intensity
I’m starting to think this is my destiny
To fall in love hard and feel heartbreak even harder
To write a few poems when I’m in love
To write a hundred poems when I face another love failure
maybe it’s best to truly accept me
a girl sometimes full of serenity
a girl always full of intensity
I wrote this poem in June of 2024.
this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
don’t know which way is up
don’t know which way is down
don’t know what is right
don’t know what is wrong
I want someone’s hand to hold but they reach for my breast
I want innocent kisses on the cheek
but they reach for the heaven between my thighs
I wake up on a Sunday
Mad and angry
You’re not here
In my arms
Because I was too much
I was too Insane
Too old
So I lay alone
In tears that won’t fall
Numb
Wondering-
When will I ever
Find someone
To take away
The numbness
Of the experience
Of a life not loved
Of a face not kissed
Of an intimacy faked!
Life on the BPD 