Poetry: Not That Woman

I wrote this in 2002. It was one of those moments when I was having one of those moments where my self esteem was high and I was like fuck love, I’m awesome by myself.

me in 2002
me in 2002 when I wrote this poem

She is not that woman
who needs a man
She alone fulfills her dreams
Without him, her face still beamsme

She is not that beauty chick
Who has all the men at her feet
She’s got something else
When the world of beauty fails

She is not that pushover girl
Submissive with the golden curls
She’s got her own mind
Love is not worth her time

She is not that Ms.Prom Queen
Who wants an engagement ring
A husband she could care less about
She’d rather not take that life route

Poetry: Mr. New Guy

I wrote this in early January 2002 about some random dude I was talking to online. I never met the dude that inspired this poem.

sometimes I’m both

So you want to meet soon?
I wonder why
You say because I sound
Sexy and great
But should I take another chance
And end up with another
horrible waste of a man
who will regard me
as just another good fuck
Or maybe I’m being too cynical
And you for once will be
Mr.Right
What I know is that
I couldn’t stand again being a fad

Poetry: Confession

I wrote this in January of 2002 after I met my married coworker Lucas to who I became attracted to . I think I had just known him for a week but right away I became infatuated with him.

sometimes you can’t help who you’re attracted to

What am I doing?
Longing and yearning
For something that so obviously
not meant to be
What am I doing?
Hoping and wishing
that you’ll leave her soon
so you’ll be my love king
What am I doing?
Allowing to lose myself
Driving me to confess
That there’s something I feel
Maybe this time it’s for r
eal

Poetry: Scared

I’m not sure which ex I wrote this about but this is the general feeling I have when a relationship is going well. My anxiety goes up and I catastrophized. This was written in 2000.

I am scared
That my heart will tear
I am worried
One day you’ll be sorry
I’m so frightened
It’s just a matter of when
I am just tired
After so many liars
My mind is stuck
Thinking you just want to fuck
I am careful
Trying to not end up a fool

A Decade of Blogging

sums up my decade

So today marks my 10 anniversary since starting this blog. I’ll admit that until the summer of this year I didn’t take this blog as seriously as maybe I should have. I started this blog in December of 2011 after my house was broken into and we were robbed. It was traumatizing to me and my family and I needed a way to process it so I started blogging. Here is that blogpost:

Hola/Hello

Since starting this blog, there have been a lot of life changes. I’ve blog about those life changes few times when just writing it down doesn’t do the trick. The way that I have explained it to friends and family is that the blog is like screaming into the void of cyberspace. In October of 2019, I started posting my poetry and this was another level of intimacy for me because I don’t share my poetry with just anyone. I will share my poetry or writing with one of my close friends or sometimes at open mic at my local pub .Then I started a second job and I didn’t have the time needed to dedicate to this blog but I always kept writing. Then I got into a relationship that lasted until July of this year. While I’m not getting into how that relationship ended or why (that’s blog content for late next year-lol) it was one of the reasons I started blogging again. The demise of that relationship was unexpected and devastating for me so I turned to my first coping mechanism-writing. Shortly before my breakup in July, I started therapy and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and that was a lot to process in itself. Being broken up while dealing with a new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder felt like I had experienced 2 really horrible car wrecks within a week. I compare it to a car accident because that’s probably one of the most traumatizing experiences of my life. Except this time, it wasn’t my car that was totaled and unrepairable, it was me. I felt like I had lost part of my identity since I was no longer someone’s partner and I gained a new part of my identity in being diagnosed with BPD. I felt completely overwhelmed with no sense of direction; I honestly didn’t know what to do next. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry while Alexa played my sad girl playlist from Spotify. Here is that playlist:

Playlist: For the Brokenhearted: Sad Edition (the one where you cry)

And while I did do that some of the time; I understood I still needed to get up every day and show up for myself somehow. And showing up for myself meant writing. And so I wrote every day in my journal and in my numerous notebooks. I wrote letters at 3 AM that I would never send, journal entries full of immense sadness and rage, and tons and tons of poetry.

these are just a few of my journals and well Sylvia Plath is of course one of my favorite poets

A few days after my breakup, I decided to blog about my diagnosis to start to make sense of it and here’s that post:

A New Diagnosis: BPD

After writing that post and it got more than a few views and a couple of likes, it made me realize that there are other people like me. I also got the idea at that time that healing for me would look like me revisiting past traumatic situations through my poetry and reflections or writing a blog post. And this was chaotic in itself because I started posting poetry from all stages in my life. So around late October and early November, I started posting poetry for the most part chronologically from the early stages of my writing with the very first poem I wrote when I was 15 and here’s that poem:

Poetry: Another Mate

My writings and poetry are confessional, sometimes childish, and at times super emotional. It’s meant for people who have felt misunderstood in their anger and grief, it’s meant for people who feel everything at once and feel overwhelmed by it, it’s meant for people who have traumas they’re still not over, and it’s meant for people who have given their trust and vulnerability to the wrong people only to be broken over and over again by doing this.

so I kept writing

My future plan for this blog is to continue to post poetry, essays, playlists, and other writings. Without intending to, this blog has become a storytelling blog. And it’s a story about a woman who is far from perfect. It’s a story of woman who lies, who loves hard, who hates even harder, who loves sex, who has been abandoned by lovers and who has abandoned lovers, who’s crazy, and who feels immense sadness and rage when trauma hits. It’s a story of a woman who fucks up continuously but still manages to get up and try to become a better version of herself than she was yesterday. It’s also a story of a woman who has continued to triumph after trauma. Most importantly it’s a story of a woman who is done accommodating to people’s and society’s expectations of who she should be and at 40 has realized that being authentic and true to herself is the only and right way for her to be. I may have changed a lot within a decade but what will never change is my love for writing and my purpose to continue to share my story.

Here’s to 10 more years of writing about my vida loca

Poetry: Hope You Know

I hope you know that YOU really shouldn’t think about dating me unless you want me to write loads and loads of sad and angry breakup poetry about you once you leave. Just kidding. Maybe. LMAO Anyways, here is another salty poem about the great breakup of 2001.

I hope you know you made a mistake
The day you decided to go astray
You have just lost the best thing
It’ll get under your skin
And you will one day regret
The day you decided to forget
It was just supposed to be about me and you
And you’ll feel like such a damn fool
For I’ll never let you walk back into my life
Knowing you made love to me with your disgusting lies
I hope you’re miserable with her
and karma comes for you and her
and for me you’ll just be another nightmare

Poetry: Ambiguity

I wrote this in December 2001 after seeing my ex “S” from the “great breakup of 2001”. I saw him at mall while I was shopping. I remember not being able to breathe and having to get out of there.

forgiveness is hard

I was minding my own business
when I came upon your ugly face
I started right away to get restless
Thinking how you had been such a fucking waste
I hope you didn’t notice
How I had forgotten to breathe
How the memory of your kiss
Came back to me
That’s when I had to turn around and leave

Poetry: Man of My Destiny

I wrote this in January of 2002 about Lucas , my married coworker. We are finally at this chapter of my life; yeah, the one where I fell “in love” with my married coworker. I was 20, almost 21 and he was 31. This was one of the most interesting and tumultuous seasons of my love life due to the crazy circumstances surrounding it but that’s another blog post. Lol.

attraction

And so I finally meet
The man of my destiny
But of course
There is a minor oversight
He is bound to another by law
But does his face light up
when she enters the room?
Does he desire me as I desire him?
Does he care for her the way I care for him?
Does he still want her as bad as I want him?

Poetry: My Love Murderer

This was the second poem I wrote in December of 2001 inspired after seeing my ex “S” at the mall. I was still feeling all of those raw emotions after this breakup when I wrote this. Looking back on it, I’m glad that at the time, I took my emotions out on paper instead of finding other means of escape with alcohol or someone else.

There you were
In front of me
My love murderer
I wanted to yell and scream
and say
You are the most deceitful, lying, scum king
I wanted to throw at you my fist
with all my might
And punch those lips I had once kissed
I wanted to kill you with a look
that said
You bastard, look at how much you took away from me
Instead, I had to walk away
and take back with me
All I wanted to do or say

Poetry: So You

So I really needed therapy then. Hahaha. This is another salty poem from the great breakup of 2001.This poem is obviously directed at “S” ex-wife who let me know he was cheating on me. Thinking back on it now, I was pretty cruel to the poor girl on the phone. Any anger I had felt should been directed at him and not her. She was in the same situation I was in.

And that dynamite exploded

So you got my man
Thank you for getting him off my hands
So you think he loves you
It’s just a line to fuck you
So you think I still want him
I could care less about such a sorry thing
So you think you are meant to be
You are blind too, I see
So you think he’s the real deal
He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel
So you think you’re lucky
You got yourself another false story
So you think I’m saying this because I’m super pissed
Nah, I’m saying this cause you’re another girl on
his growing list

Poetry: I Thought

Another poem written about the great breakup of 2001. This is a great example of my black and white thinking that comes with having BPD. LMAO.

Me with my nephew in 2001 around the time I wrote this poem

I thought you were kind
I never thought you would destroy after a short time
I thought you loved me
I never thought you would betray me
I thought we were meant to be
I never thought you would cheat on me
I thought I was the only one you cared about
I never thought lying was what you were about
I thought you were my dream come true
I never thought you weren’t being true
I thought I could put my trust in you
I never thought you would make me so blue

Poetry: Dear Brad

I wrote this poem in 2002 about Brad, my former friend who lied to me for about a decade. Before I wrote this poem, we had met up maybe once and fooled around. After that, I tried to make it go back to a platonic friendship but he kept pressuring me for more.

I feel so fucking bad
My dear friend Brad
I know that you were displeased
I never meant for to think I was a tease
But I can no longer be that girl
That doesn’t know her worth
And is okay with being a β€œgood lay”
Sorry for not being able to be your booty call
It’s just that I have learned
That if I want respect
I have to be firm
I hope you’ll forgive me and understand
And we can again be friends and hang

Poetry: Hell Sent

I wrote this in November of 2001 about the great breakup of that year. I was quite salty. Hey, at least I didn’t go Joe Goldberg on his ass. Lmao. Sometimes as a way to process trauma, I will write letters to the people that have hurt me. This is an example of one of them.

I feel like this same story has repeated in my life over and over again

My heart knew you were no good
Something told it you were not being true
All those days you were out there β€œworking”
You had been out there fucking
I should’ve known to walk away
The first time your lying ways gave you away
But I wanted so badly to believe
That you were truly in love with me
Now I’m a big mess
But I deserve this I guess
For not listening to myself
And falling in love with your sorry self
I’m glad we’ve reached the end
Cause baby you were hell sent

Poetry: Fun is Gone

I wrote this in 1998 about my pregnancy. I wrote this after telling my traditional and catholic parents I was pregnant. I was six months along and went into a deep depression afterwards that lasted maybe a year after the birth of my first child. Yes, I was a teen mom with post partum depression and there wasn’t much anyone could do at the time. I still got up to go to school and took care of my child. My life was no longer just about me, I was responsible for another life. Maybe that’s when I learned to mask so well. I learned to show up no matter what. On the upside, I had really supportive parents who were for me when they could have abandoned me. On the downside, some of my closest friends did. Sometimes I wonder if going through something this traumatic did stunted my maturity in some areas.

me at 17 around the time I wrote this poem

No more fun
No more just β€œlying in the sun”
Dirty diapers and Barney
Will sum up the next few years for me
No more hanging out with friends
No more having tons of boyfriends
Strollers and snotty noses
Will be how my adolescence closes

Poetry: Cheater

I wrote this poem in 2001. It’s another poem about the “great breakup” of 2001. I think part of the reason I took that breakup so hard was that I had idealized that relationship thinking finally I found the one. Lol. I was just really tired of jumping into relationships time after time and them not working out.

Yeah..I was mad..lol

I thought I was the only one
in your heart
I never thought that the time would come
when you’d say β€œIt’s time we part”
It never crossed my mind
that there was somebody else
I always thought you were only mine
I thought we had more time