any idea or notion of romance is lost to me I’ve tried every which way to make myself appetizing edible for men to take interest in me, love me but the story always turns sour and I’m tired of rejection followed by bouts of tears and insanity this spring I will not spend my energy trying to manifest another fool I’ll get obsessed about or get caught up in my head and daydreams this spring I’m going to concentrate only on my potential that’s yet to bloom Focus of the world of creativity that resides within waiting to get out
nail on the coffin on the future I wanted no prince charming no house with the white picket fence instead I stare down at the barrel of poverty trying to find a glimmer of who I used to be among my many forgotten dreams
last time I had my last first kiss it was wasted on a middle age scorpio I wore a cute summer dress with red lipstick along with my feminine charm I didn’t have to lay it on thick for him to desire me for him to want to kiss me he would’ve fuck me I hadn’t been on my period his hands roamed almost every inch of my body as if it belong to him for the 5 minutes we made out while I dissociated and pretended I was somewhere else I was numb and devoid of feeling anything Am I even a person? He said things about how I was so hot and sexy and how sad it was that couldn’t screw me And I laughed flirtatiously following the script I’ve had since I could remember and I felt no desire or any pleasure if anything I was repulsed by him, by myself hating how even at 40, I was still pulling the same bullshit since I was 16 making myself an object of desire for me to play with and then something snapped in me that day a couple of hours after that date I sent him a snap along with all the other 7 dudes I was entertaining and keeping as options the same message, “I’m sorry, I’m not in a place to date or even to have men as friends, I wish you the best” it was hard as I had always been addicted to men’s attention and validation but something told me it was time to switch the narrative even though I knew it would be lonely
I hate it when I catch myself being unintentionally sweet It makes me feel vulnerable and weak It’s almost as if my armor of empowered Queen is breaking and I can’t allow that to happen I’ve come too far in my heroine’s journey to allow romantic daydreams to disrupt it And I’m tempted to erase his messages And block him It’s not his fault or mine It’s the faulty wiring in my brain it causes the logic in me to short circuit every time I talk to him
you were a dead end street that I didn’t see until it unraveled me Until it was too late and I didn’t want to turn around and kept going and eventually I crashed in the most magnificent and catastrophic of ways and I burned and burned until I was ashes and rose up in the most spectacular rebirth anyone had witnessed since Jesus
era tiempo de convertimos en extraños y esta vez para siempre No había más vueltas que dar o mas capítulos de nuestra historia que escribir Aceptar que ya nunca más seremos fue el favor más grande que nos hicimos Ojala que esta vez seamos extraños para siempre porque siendo algo más siempre nos causa un daño y conflicto interno Ojala que esta vez seamos como el fin del cuento que mi papá me contaba cuando era niña, “Colorin colorado nuestro cuento se ha acabado”
asustada y desesperada, me ato a ti aprendí de niña que la soledad era una maldición y qué quedarse sola es la peor cosa que le puede pasar a una mujer
being with you was a form of self harm it was another symptom of my mental illness It was me living with my unhealed alcoholic daddy issues it was the worst version of me trying to find some kind of semblance of love to fill the void with whatever, even if that love looked toxic, brought out the worst in me, berated and assaulted me still stupidly I went back to you and accepted you in my life over and over again even with delusional daydreams in the back of my mind that if I kept you in my life long enough eventually you’d change and one day we’d get it right but all you ever did was disappoint me over and over again but this last undoing of us is the one and good riddance for that because at 43, i’m too fucking old to waste my time on fuck bois who can’t show an ounce of respect and dignity
my morality goes out the window when the madness appears it’s always a combo of impulsivity and hypersexuality longing for connection, longing for intimacy Longing to feel something other than the emptiness that lies within It’s a temporary fix as I run away from my self made prison of stability
I pay tribute to the women who came before me women who sacrificed so my parents could exist my mami who had to leave behind her culture, traditions, and language to give me a better life to make sure I grow up safe and well educated and taught me what strength and resilience means as she worked long days to make ends meet as she showed initiative to move our family forward and with her example I was able to follow it except I change it up some to live a life full of love, community and creativity
always restless and wild from the start nothing could contain me or dim my spark leg braces, overprotective parents it didn’t matter I always found a way to make trouble, to investigate, always too curious for my own good and too dramatic and emotional for mostly everyone always good at making people uncomfortable sometimes it’s a curse, sometimes it’s a blessing can’t change this part of myself I have, am and will always be like this
at 17, the pregnant bride to be got a telegram from her groom sorry, but I’m betrothed to another and am getting married at gun point maybe it was the heavy feeling of rage or her aries nature and hormones the jilted bride with a silent fury went to her closet and took out her ostentatiously beaded wedding dress and with matches in her hand she went outside and set fire to it in front of the family home one of the younger siblings saw the insanity as the bride stared at it mesmerized by fire that grew and grew she walked towards it all sense of reality gone from her not hearing the screams from her abuela who ran towards her and just before the bride step foot in the fire la abuela shook her and slapped her across the face until the bride reacted, let out a loud wail heard across the farmland and fainted
wonder how it happened- the transaction between beatriz’ papi and luis did beatriz have any say in her future betrothal did she have dreams as a little girl about her future husband did she even love Luis or just tolerate him because it’s what was expected of her how did it happen did she wish for a different life for her daughters one where they loved their husbands one where they were treated like humans and not treated like cattle
sueños olvidados vienen a mi mente mientras sufro de un episodio depresivo quería ser mucho más que esto una madre abrumadora tratando de dar lo mejor de ella pero todavía fracasando
Life on the BPD 