Poetry:Traitor

Aquí esta la versión en Español:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/08/08/poesia-desgraciado-2/


Perhaps I’m crazy,

Perhaps I’m dramatic 

But I must say

You’re a traitor

for what you did to me

Causing me so much  heartbreak

and misery

Pretending to “love me”

Behind your “nice guy” disguise

was really an asshole

who lured me with sweet lies

into a web of treachery

and infidelity

Poem: My Sleeping Poem **trigger warning**

I wrote this poem in December of 2016 after my almost love affair with death on December 5th. It’s strange how aside from my journal entries from that month, I hardly remember that month. I just remember feeling so broken inside and like a failure after that happened that it was so hard to get up every morning. I do know that writing saved me during that time because I started journaling way more consistently. I would learn years later after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder that up to 10 percent of people with BPD die by suicide. Five years later, I’m glad that I had people by my side that prevented me from becoming one in ten. I’m glad that afterwards, I was able to slowly come back from this even if I was mostly depressed the year after and it was a fight to get up every single day.

For more information about the high risk of BPD and Suicide, here is a link from Psychology Today with info about it:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/where-science-meets-the-steps/201512/the-destructive-power-borderline-personality-disorder

me and one of my best friends in December 2016

I wanted to sleep

Sleep beckoned me

Like a magical place

Where I could forget

Forget-

The burdens and responsibilities

Forget-

The performance reviews, the report cards, the bills

Forget- 

The husband, the kids, the friends

I wanted to sleep

So I planned my journey there

Call in sick, act natural,

Take the bottle of xanax

I wrote love letters 

To my children, my husband, and friends

Just in case I fell in a forever dream

I wanted to sleep

Selfishly, without interruptions 

I wanted to sleep

So I didn’t have to think 

About my mediocre and suburban reality

My lost dreams of greatness

My wastefulness on this earth

I wanted to sleep

But I was interrupted

By my husband shaking me

Halfway carrying me 

To the couch, forcing coffee

Down my throat

I wanted to sleep 

But I had to wake up

And endure the reality of life

Poetry: Waiting

This another poem inspired about the great breakup of 2001. I probably wrote this when it first happened. My sense of reality is shook up after a break up and it feels like a never ending nightmare that I’ll never wake up from after it happens. This doesn’t happen with every break up…just the ones that really affect me.

Waiting 

So I wait for the phone to ring
To hear you say
this loneliness has all been a horrible dream
So I wait for you to show up at my door
To tell me you can’t stand being away from me no more
So I wait for your love letter in my mailbox
To begin getting back together

Flash Fiction: Once Again

I wrote this in 2004 and revised it recently. It’s not based on anything from real life.

hard truth

They’re driving back from the theater. All evening he’s been quiet and she wonders what is going on. She reaches for his hand but he won’t give it to her. She tries to look into his eyes and he looks away.She can feel him cold and distant. She no longer recognizes what is supposed to be “them”. With tears in her eyes, she says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” he says as he’s still evading her eyes.

“Do you still love me?” she asks with a quivering voice. 

“I’m sorry.I’m in love with someone else. It’s nothing you did. These things happen, I hope–

“STOP!” she yells. She’s barely holding it together at this point. 

“I’m really sorry, I just want to-”

“STOP! I’m done with this. Stop the car.” she screams at him. 

“You’re being crazy, at least let me-”

“NO. I want nothing from you! Stop the car NOW!”

“You need to calm — he stops mid sentence as he sees her taking off her seat belt and unlocking the door. He stops the car. He says, “I just want–” 

“Fuck what you want” she says as she gets out of the car.

“But I-”

“There is nothing left to say”. She tells him. She walks away while she cries and laughs.She whispers to herself  “fuck.once again”.  

Poetry: Risen

I wrote this in 2006.

some cravings are never satisfied

Rising from a deep sleep
That had become our marital bed
Passion woke up
In a sudden caress
Of your rough hands
On my soft bare back
Your eyes shone on me again
With that long lost stare
Desire
Our long lost friend
Is back
To reclaim us
From our endlessly deep and dreamless sleep

Poetry: Let’s Go To Your Store

I wrote this in 2006 for my creative writing class.

Always…

Let’s go to your store
Where it’s like paradise
Where no one’s ignored

There is a nice white floor
And there are no cries
Let’s go to your store

Nobody is abhorred
Or ever sacrificed
Where no one’s ignored

Everyone is adored
And even told a few lies
Let’s go to your store

Confidence is restored
Because everyone tries
Where no one’s ignored

So take me on a tour
Where no one has a price
Let’s go to your store
Where no one’s ignored

Poetry: My Pride and Joy

I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.

me and my oldest in 2003

You’re a wonderful mistake

I never want to unmake

I was young and stupid

a kid having another kid

but with you I finally grew up

and learned the meaning of love

You are everything a mother could want

Such an admirable and fine son

you are my pride and joy

you will always be my little boy

And I will dread the day

When you have to go away

But I take relief in knowing

You’ll know how to spread your wings

And you will always remember

who you once were

A wonderful mistake

Your mom never wanted to unmake

Perhaps a creation of lust

but one who never lacked love