Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/03/poetry-pain/
me estoy hundiendo en mi tristeza
y nada o nadie lo puede para
empiezo a sentirme entumecida a mi vida
y ha nadie le importa
y quiero gritar pero no puedo
en cambio finjo sonrisas
y digo que todo está bien
I wrote this on Valentine’s Day of 2022.
I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me
Here is the English version of the poem that inspired this one:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/21/poetry-thanks-to-you/
el hielo de tu despedida me destruyo
eras otra leccion que aprendi, otro hombre que me quemo
Y después de 4 años quieres pedir disculpas
disminuyendo todo lo que pasó
como si fuera un accidente menor
como si no me arruinaste la vida
como si no me trataste como basura
Querido, es demasiado tarde para tus remordimientos
dile a tu conciencia que se calle
solita, me encargue del desmadre que dejaste
Y nosotros hemos sobrevivido sin it
Entonces, vete, vete, vete
Nunca más regreses aquí
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
I wish for sleep to take me away to a dreamless land
but I’ll take unpleasant dreams about ghosts from my past
just so my body can get a full night’s rest
But sleep evades me,it runs away from me
like a lover who lures me with a taste of love
only to abandon me on a whim
and I try and try and try to shut down my mind
but tonight an emotional triggers hit me and trauma visits me
My body and mind remembers the adrenaline rush
of emotional and physical wounds and it scares sleep off
I wonder what to do next and get angry at my traitorous body
but I remember-trauma is complex and while most of it has been processed
There are still remnants that come out to be seen, to be addressed
And I end up here with the nightmare of insomnia that won’t let me rest
And while it’s scary I remember it’s also temporary
eventually my body has to give in and I’ll fall asleep
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/11/hey-%f0%9f%91%8b-married-man/
Mi corazón se rehúsa a dejarte
no importa que duro lo intento
no importa con quien estoy para escapar
los pensamientos de ti
es inmoral que te ame
pero mi corazón es demasiado salvaje
para escuchar logica y razon
te quiere a ti y solo a ti
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/23/hey-mister-%f0%9f%91%8b/
me estoy hundiendo en tu magia
es porque eres algo prohibido para mi
es porque eres malo para mi
Siempre me enamoro de lo que será
mi perdición y mi autodestrucción
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice
I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021
I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright
I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog
I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best
I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/23/poetry-infatuation/
las mariposas que siento por ti
se convierten en poemas de amor
aunque nuestro amor nunca pueda ser
y tú perteneces a otra
tengo que reconocer
que eres el nuevo objeto de mi inspiración
que se está volviendo en una obsesión
I wrote this in January of 2022.
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
anger brings out passive aggressive social media post
sadness tells me I’m worthless
joy makes everything seem magical
numbness makes me want to end it all
hyper-sexuality makes me want to fuck almost everyone
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
I get paranoid, mad, sad, happy, and horny all in one day
My escapes used to be fucking and drinking
But I got older and wiser
And now I run and I write
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
And I learned to regulate and control them
I observe, I listen without judgment
and I honor my emotions
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
but now only for a short time
And I’m in control again
I’m no longer a mess of destruction and chaos
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/01/poetry-my-love-murderer/
verte de nuevo enfrente de mi
quería hacer una escena y gritarte
todas tus verdades
hacerte sentir mi dolor
pero mi sentido común me interrumpió
Cualquier cosa que hiciera o diría
en ese momento de ira no importaría
no cambiaria lo que pasó
o el daño que me hiciste
sería mejor alejarme de ti
y no darte una onza mas de mi energía
This was my response to prompt #22: Something all people should know
Stop shaming your shadow self
trying to constantly shut it down
telling yourself it’s not a part of you
it’s been there since you were a child
acknowledge it, walk with it
Let it be seen, let it be heard
even if that sometimes looks crazy or weird
Let that bitch or asshole out
Otherwise it will consume you
This was my response to prompt #17: The best gift you could receive
God grant me serenity and peace
I hate it when I’m like this
everything annoys the fuck out of me
If I have to see another post about healing or trauma
or my inner child, I’m throwing my phone out the door
it’s not anything or anyone specifically
its these horrible mood swings
They transform me into a salty bitch
who sets fire to everything and everyone
with her pen and paper
at least now I channel my anger into poetry and prose
and no longer self implode
when will serenity and peace come to me permanently
and not just come to visit me temporarily?
Life on the BPD 