poesía: chiste
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: To the Man I Can Never Have
Es casi un chiste decir pero todavía pienso en ti
todavia de extraño
aunque ya se que me has olvidado
porque vi el anuncio de tu matrimonio en el periodico
ojala que a esta le seas fiel,
que a esta la ames de verdad
y no le hagas otra víctima de tu desamor y infidelidad
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Song of the Day 🥳 “slot machines, fear of God”🥳
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poetry: christopher columbus
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Maybe it’s lack of sex or lack of sleep but I must declare-
Christopher Columbus is a piece of shit
Maybe it’s my own insecurities or maybe it’s a projection
but I must say you can get away with murder
if you’re a white male
Maybe it’s the BPD and the depression
But I must scream FUCK WHITE SUPREMACY
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poesía: monstruo
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Sadness
el monstruo de la oscuridad me persigue y me caza
no hay salida y me encuentro en una jaula
con la voz de mi crítica interna
que me repite “no vales la pena, no vales la PENA,
NO VALES LA PENA”
Y trato de razonar con la voz
pero no me escucha y me siento esclavizada
por ella sin saber lo que me espera
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Song of the Day 🙄 “it’s my responsibility” 🙄
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poesía: que asco
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: It Hurts
quisiera matar las mariposas que siento dentro de mi
porque los cuentos de amor siempre acaban en tragedia para mi-
pero ya es demasiado tarde
no puedo dejar en pensar en ti
no puedo parar lo que siento por ti
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Song of the Day 😪😪😪
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poetry: that extra shift
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I don’t want to work that extra shift but my discover statement
tells me otherwise-
it tells me that once again I’m falling into a world of debt-
for daring to live a life above my means, above my class
and if I’m not careful I can slip back into poverty status
so I’ll work that extra shift and stop trying to live
a higher class life that’s not meant for me yet-
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poesía: esta vez
here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Wishful Thinking
esta vez, me sorprende que me sacaron los cuernos-
el era tan bueno, tan amable
me decía “te quiero” religiosamente
pero las apariencias engañan
y ahora me toca vengarme
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poetry: a new love story
I wrote this poem in October 2022.
Maybe I need a new love story-even if it’s temporary
so I can find relief and some peace from this loneliness
That’s making me into an insane mess
Maybe losing myself in someone else
Will stop making me feel less-
or perhaps what’s really happening
It’s me allowing my depression talk me into finding a solution-
for my neverending frustration with healing and growth
and always having to look within for what I need
But perhaps if I had somebody maybe for once, I could just be
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poetry: Found Poem-BPD Edition with Quora
I wrote this poem in October of 2022 with the help of Quora.
what do most people not understand about borderline personality disorder?
what are borderline psychopaths?
can you trust someone with borderline personality disorder?
can someone who has bpd have empathy and feel bad for what they have done?
does a borderline individual ever had a hard time getting over someone or
can they easily forget?
what is borderline personality rage?
what hurts a person with BPD?
why is borderline personality so contradictory?
do people with BPD act normal to everyone except the person they’re splitting on?
are people with BPD childlike ?
can unconditional love treat borderline disorder?
does a person with bpd make their partners go crazy?
how do borderlines show they love you?
do borderlines ever find happiness, hope or a genuine connection?
what does a bpd episode look like?
should someone with BPD ever disclose that to a potential mate?
when do relationships with PwBpd start to fall apart?
are borderline psychotic?
can borderline disorder be cured?
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Song of the Day 😪 “someone come and help me” 😪
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Song of the Day 😘 “fuck your confession”😘
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poetry: tsunami
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: El Pasado
a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16-
as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love
as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off-
regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach
and I want to vomit
Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe
and I’m transported back to my present
I’m safe again in my body-
as I come to accept and love
the immature and impulsive girl I once was
who carelessly gave herself to others
who never thought about the consequences
and took risks
she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be-
she was just in a rush to live her life
Life on the BPD 