you burned our novel of love because your courage ran out because you couldn’t fight for us- even when you told me over and over again how being with me made you feel alive how I was different from anyone you ever met none of that mattered because you chose your wife because she brings you security because she’s your peace because she’s comfortable because you preferred a static and predictable life with her Instead of living a life full of excitement and challenges with me
The creases and wrinkles of my body should make self conscious because I’m getting older, because I’m getting fatter but I think the creases and wrinkles of my body make me the most beautiful version of me My body proves I live a life with an abundance of food My body proves I’m still here in middle age making mistakes and learning from them Society wants me to believe I don’t hold much value since I don’t fit their standard of youthful beauty Well I say fuck society and their standards of beauty I’m happy and proud to be unconventionally pretty
Deep inside of me is a treasure chest full of wonder, full of splendor Deep inside of me is a treasure chest full of sadness,full of sorrow Deep inside of me is a treasure chest full of love, full of laughter Deep inside of me is a treasure chest full of anger, full of hate
I feel raw with emotions It’s like someone has ripped off the scab of an almost healed heart and it’s bleeding once again And while this time it’s not pulsating with anger and rage it still hurts like a small paper cut you can’t see but it’s still there
I hide the craziest parts of myself The parts that get sad, The parts that get obsessed The parts that lose hope I hide the worst parts of myself the parts that feel empty The parts that feel numb The parts that want to die I hide the craziest and worst parts of myself so no one else will leave
I wish I could be perfect to everyone in my life, the perfect mom, the perfect coparent, the perfect mistress but the pressure gets too loud within me And I need to get away from how I want to be perceived I’ll never be the perfect anything I’m never be June Cleaver or the perfect dream girl I can only be authentically and imperfect me And maybe me and everyone in my life need to accept that’s the best I can be
My diagnosis doesn’t define me, It empowers me, it makes sense of my nonsense I’m not crazy or chaotic or even hard to love I’m a dream come true wrapped up in complexity sure at times I feel like a nightmare But don’t all of us get rough at times So whoever gets scared and runs away from me Sorry not sorry, I’m too much and you’re just not enough
I wrote this in March of 2022 for World Bipolar Day.
I wear the stigma of a bipolar diagnosis and hide this big secret This secret has been a part of me since my teens This secret explains my sometimes uncontrollable insanity This secret at times robs me of my sleep This secret has taken me on many fun and lustful adventures This secret makes me write, write, write so I don’t want to die, die, die I keep this secret and take medication for it But one day, I’ll scream out loud my mental health truth I’m bipolar 2 I’m not enough to ruin your life but just enough to fuck it up a little at a time
I never needed anyone to teach me how to love what I needed was understanding and acceptance while my love is kind and sweet most of the time my love also cannot be tamed at times when it gets wild and out of control it’s better to just ride the big wave of it until it is tamed and soft again it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to love It’s just that most don’t know how to handle it my kind of overwhelming love is a crazy kind of love it will hurt you, challenge you and bring conflict it will make you want to slap the shit out of me because yes it’s that intense but my kind of of love is always worthy
I’m tired of the bustle and hustle that comes with my social status and the color of my skin Why wasn’t I raised with privilege and wealth instead of being raised with poverty and trauma? And I try and I try and I try to find a way out of this cruel existence but it’s futile I take pride in my never ending hustling but at times it feels so exhausting There seems to no end in sight for this fruitless fight
C.E Hoffman’s chapbook collection Blood, Booze and Other Things in Nature is definitely a must read if you like your poetry vulnerable and thought provoking . This collection is raw and in your face and doesn’t shy away from telling you the harsh truth about the world but the poet does in a way that’s witty and full of dark humor. The poet addresses complex issues of mental health, love, sex, parenthood, and poverty. They address the inequalities that hit you in the gut and make you question the status quo.. I’ve never read a poetry collection like this before. I’ll talk about 4 poems from the book that I really liked. Their poetry feels like thoughts I’ve had that I have been too afraid to write down; much less share with the world.
The first poem is “Bloom (Blow Job) “and I really liked how this poem transitioned from giving a blowjob to other things in the poet’s life. I interpreted as things to talk about or are talked about after a blowjob. The line in this poem that really resonated with me was “you wipe spit from your cheek when/your lover says it was the hardest they came in their life, and/you believe them “(Hoffman). I’ve had this said to me quite a few times and my friend has as well. It’s a common line that men say to their partners/flings. Yes, MEN, we do talk about these things.
Another poem that resonated with me was “Magnificent Shits” in which the poet talks about how they imagine their unborn child to be like and how much they already love them . I resonated with this poem because as a parent myself, I’ve had similar thoughts. I resonated with the lines, “But no matter where you go/forever drives your soul/YOU ARE A MASTERPIECE that shits and smiles and needs and creates and kisses/explores and speeds “(Hoffman). These capture that feeling of loving your child and acknowledging their humanness.
Another poem I really liked from this collection is “Prenatal Yoga aka Relearning Breath”. It deals with complex issues of “passing” and even deals with the poet dealing with privilege. The line that I really liked from this poem was, “And I know it’s strange to find peace in a space of appropriation/’cause 8 outta 9 of our faces are white/ so when it comes to “passing”/ I really can’t talk, can I? “(Hoffman) As a woman of color who’s spent most of her time in predominantly white spaces, I understand this sentiment of feeling like an “other” or “out of place”. Often at times, I try to blend in and 9 out of 10 times, I am able to without incident. However, there is that 10 % where I feel uncomfortable because something unintentionally prejudiced is said or a wrong assumption is made about me.
New Moon in Cancer (Radical Honesty 101) was my favorite poem in this book. I interpreted this poem as the anxiety of the poet written in verse. I loved how honest Hoffman is in addressing everything that goes through their mind openly talking about their mental health, relationships, and what it’s like to be a writer in today’s environment of instagram, twitter, etc. One of my favorite lines from this poem was, “I don’t believe in The One./I’ve initiated most of my break-ups, cheated on basically/even in open relationships-/Shit. Maybe I just suck at this.” )Hoffman. I feel like Hoffman basically describes almost all of my romantic relationships and the thoughts I have about that part of my life. Examining and deconstructing my relationships this past year, I’ve often thought, “man, maybe I just suck at this, let me quit while I haven’t slashed anyone’s tires yet”(haha). The other line that I really liked from this poem was “Honestly I’m sick of wanting to get better, dying to be better, trying to do better than whatever I am or can” (Hoffman). Being in this recovery journey from my BPD feels like that sometimes. I have a strict routine I adhere to, read so many books about BPD, monitor my moods and honestly, it gets tiresome at times. Like Hoffman, I get sick of trying to “be better” and I often wonder when I can stop being so vigilant and rigid in everything I do. When can I say I’m finally better and can stop doing so much?
Blood, Booze, and other things in Nature is definitely the poetry collection for you if you’ve ever felt like a pariah, like an outcast, like an outsider in this world that tries to tone you down for being too crazy, too loud, and too bizarre for it. Reading this poetry collection is the medicine you need for that beautiful and chaotic soul of yours that refuses to conform to the norms and expectations of normalcy in this patriarchal society.
Below is a link to the book:
Don’t believe me? Here are other testimonials about the book and the author:
Praise for Blood, Booze, and Other Things in Nature:
This book resonates with anyone who’s ever called a crisis line and had them respond, “Oh wow that’s a lot.” This chapbook isn’t a cocktail. It’s a shot.
-Kit Stitches
This is no nipple-slip, no wardrobe malfunction. This is deliberate, personal exposure, revealing heart, head, and the wounds of living. The battle songs, the laments, and the healing gather here.
-Neil S Reddy
This collection is a dirty meditation, a longing for escape, an ecstatic fuck you to the traps and ties of societal expectation. A delightful, messy romp through the entrails of the heart.
-Nicole Morning
This is the kind of writing that inspires fandom.
-Alexandine Ogundimu, Filth Magazine
Praise for C E Hoffman:
C E Hoffman is a fearless writer.
-Jack Wang, author of We Two Alone and winner of the Danuta Gleed Literary Award
The human spirit remains fresh-voiced, optimistic and youthful in Hoffman’s imaginative writing.
-Martin Millar, author of Lonely Werewolf Girl and winner of the World Fantasy Award
Hoffman’s writing style reminds one of Burroughs at his most straightforward or Irvine Welsh at his strangest, but with a presentation dominated primarily by women and queer characters- a refreshing change in this particular milieu.…Hoffman is definitely a writer to watch for, and I look forward to what they give us next.
I’ve had many Muses in my 41 years some have stayed my kids, my co-parent, my chosen family some have used me as a temporary destination countless friends and lovers they’ve abandoned me or I’ve abandoned them but all who have stayed or gone have inspired me in writing my life’s story through poetry so to my past, present, and future muses I am forever grateful for inspiring the most amazing and crazy creativity without you all, I wouldn’t have anything worth writing about-
Life on the BPD 