Poetry: Drunk

After breaking up with Ron while dealing with the whole Lucas drama, I was very impulsive and emotional. I wanted to escape from what I was feeling so I thought it would be a great idea to meet a new dude at a bar and hook up with him. His name was Damon and it would end up being yet another unstable relationship. This poem was written in June of 2002 right after meeting Damon.

truth

Got drunk last night
and somehow ended up
Naked and vulnerable
in some guy’s bed
We know what happened next
I gave in to mine and his desires
Not sure why I did
But everything felt so damn good
I just couldn’t stop
Even though I knew that
that it was so wrong

Poetry: Do I Know?

I wrote this poem in June of 2002 and almost 20 years later, I still have the same questions. Lol. At this point, I don’t know if I’ll ever know what romantic love and that’s okay. My life is filled with all kinds of different love that I’m not focused on finding romantic love or really care to.

if only

I want to write about love
but do I really know what it is
Is it a certain look?
Or a certain action?
Is it caring for someone’s happiness
more than your own?
Or is it being with the one
that makes you crazy
and your heart race
with the sound of their voice?
What is love?

Poetry: Mixed Feelings

I wrote this in 2002 about my coworker Lucas. This is a good example of the black and white thinking that happens with me when I’m in a relationship.

It’s always a war, I’m never the same after

You’re so close to me
And impossible to reach
You’re the one I want to be with
And the one I want to run away from
You’re my best dream
And worst nightmare
You’re my reason for my happiness
And the epitome of my frustrations
You give me a reason to live
And a reason to leave this life
You’re the first on my list
And I’m the last on yours

Poetry: A Note

I wrote this in 2002 about Lucas after he dropped me off at home. I really thought we had this special and unique connection at the time even though the situation was so fucked up.

maybe

He drops her off and waits for her to inside
opens the glove compartment
and picks up the note
she leaves for him
He feels ecstatic and miserable
at the same time
by her simple way with words
It’s not so much the content
It’s the meaning behind it
He wants to stop and love her
but he can’t
He realizes she leaves that note
as a reminder that she will
always love him

Poetry: Pain

I wrote this in 2002 when I was really depressed. I probably should have gone to therapy but instead I wrote poetry.

sometimes this feels true

My emotional pain is killing me
at a steady pace with no means of stopping
Or even slowing down
I don’t know how to feel good
about myself anymore
I forgot what it’s like to laugh or smile
What’s left of my pride is gone.

Poetry: To My Baby Daddy

I wrote this in 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. It kind of sucks that this situation happened BUT at least I got some salty poetry out of it. Lol.

triggered

Hey Mr.Donor man
How does it feel to have your son
Learn you never wanted to come
That you talked big shit
and never meant any of it
That no matter how hard I tried for him
you never wanted to be a daddy to him
That you were so fucking lame
You couldn’t even give him your last name
That to you, his mom
was just good fun
That you’re a fucking coward
you never dared to be his father
Don’t worry though
He’ll always have my love
And without you, he’ll be just fine
One day I’ll meet a man who is kind
Who will love him and I
and will want us in his life
Who’ll be glad to take the place of
The man who couldn’t give us love
Who will come to his defense
when things get tense
Who will stick around
And won’t bring him down
Who will finally be
The dad you never wanted to be

Poetry: Three Years Too Late

I wrote this poem about my oldest son’s bio dad in February of 2002. A lot of residual resentment I had towards him was because he wouldn’t step up. My empathy button for him was really broken for him and in this case maybe it needed to be.

it be like that sometimes

Three years too late
You’ve decided to embrace your fate
You’ve decided to recognize your mistake
And fill my ears with apologies
For not accepting mine and his existence

So now you feel like playing dad
And expect me to forgive and forget
about the misery you left us in
The years of being a fucking deadbeat to him
Please do what you do best
Walk away and put this situation to rest
For he doesn’t need
A false wannabe daddy
Who will cause him harm
in the long run

Poetry: She Stopped Waiting

I wrote this about my first baby daddy in February of 2002 when he contacted me. At the time that we talked, he told me that he wish I would have told him earlier about pregnancy because he would have married me instead of his wife. It honestly made me mad so I sat down and wrote this poem.

So accurate

You left her without a warning
Couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye
Now you’ve come back
Wanting to stake a claim
On what was once yours
Thinking she will gladly accept you
in a welcoming embrace
Sorry to tell you
But she stopped waiting for your return
a few years ago
You taught her not to need you, not to miss you
She moved on and left you in her mind
as a bittersweet memory
And that’s how she now sees you

Poetry: Looking Forward

I wrote this in 2002 fantasizing about the love and life I wanted. Poor 21 year old me, she was so damn naΓ―ve.

it’s a lesson in learning my worth

I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life
wrapped up in your arms
I’m looking forward to newlywed bliss
Having a little one with your gorgeous smile
And in old age, sitting in our rocking chairs on the front porch
I’m looking forward to petty arguments, responsibility, and bills
What I’m looking forward to the most is to being your wif
e

Poetry: Thanks to You

I wrote this in February 2002 about my first baby daddy. He had started to be in contact with when he got the child support order. I obviously had a lot of residual resentment and trauma and blamed him for losing part of adolescence.

monsters that leave you with trauma

She was the girl you left behind
with nothing but a baby
and a desperate hope to keep her alive

She was innocent, naive, and untouched
until the night she fell into your sexy scent,
your empowering embrace, and a world full of promises
She trusted, believed, and dreamed

Thanks to your unexpected departure
that naive girl you left behind
blossomed into a woman of depth, strength and wisdom
beyond her 21 years
She will lust but she can’t ever love
She wants to trust but finds herself full of doubt
She wishes to fill herself with guilt and morals
but has learned to have no scruples

So don’t try to come back and expect her
to believe in your crocodile tears
or your most insincere apologies
that girl you left behind
Grew up into a woman
at a surreal speed thanks to you

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