Here is the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: So You
Lo siento por ti
piensas que has ganado
pero serás otra mujer usada
crees que te ama
pero es una de sus mentiras
piensas que el es tu príncipe azul
pero tu dignidad parara en el suelo
tienes un canalla y mentiroso a tu lado
que te dejará con un mal sabor en tu boca
no digo esto porque te tengo envidia
es una advertencia
para que no acabes como mi
otra de sus muchas mujeres
que el trate como una muñeca de trapo
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=1792
Eras un sorpresa lleno
de atención y afección
hasta me dejastes rosas en mi tablero
Pensé, por fin, llegó mi príncipe azul
Pero después de un tiempo
Sentí la distancia entre los dos
ya no tenías tiempo para mi
pronto me darás alguna excusa estúpida
porque me tienes que abandonar
y mi corazón quedará en pedazos
no habrá nada más que decir
me dare cuenta
que tu fuiste el mismo cuento
de otro niño confundido
I wrote this in October of 2007.
Unanswered whys continuously haunt me
Why didn’t we last?
Why did “us” end?
We were the best love story
Where was our happy ending?
Why did our romance suffer an
abrupt and cruel end?
I wrote this in October of 2007.
The freezing cold
hit me as you
said your last
goodbye.
No more warm
and cozy instances
of your body
entrapped with
mine.
Will I ever feel
warm again or
is the cruel cold
a permanent thing?
I wrote this in 2007 when I transferred to a 4 year University. It was a rough experience.
I feel small in this enormous and elitist world
it doesn’t seem like I will ever fit
It only seems like a perfect fit
for my younger, blonder, whiter,
and younger counterparts
Older, hispanic, and poor is not acceptable here.
Should I even try ?
When I’m destined for failure on this institution’s steps
Failure on the steps is what I feel here-
a place where my browner, poorer self
feels like an outcast, an undesirable- by the eyes of prejudice
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
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:
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
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
I wrote this in 2004 and revised it recently. It’s not based on anything from real life.
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”.
I wrote this in 2003 about some random dude.
I love you so much it hurts
You put me through this sweet silent torture
Of your evil seductive ways
I almost die of ecstasy
Day 21 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Where the stars meet” .
I wrote this in 2006.
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
I wrote this in 2006 for my creative writing class.
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
Doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Rain on the pane”
Life on the BPD 