Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Month! I wrote this poem inspired by my favorite Asian American, my oldest son.
I was young and so stupid
a kid having another kid
but with you I grew up
and learned the meaning of love
you’re everything a mother could want
a wonderful and amazing son
and while I’ll feel some grief
the day you’ll your spread wings
I’ll feel a special kind of pride
as I watch you shine your golden light
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I wonder where all of my money goes
but then I go home to the bottomless pits
that are my kids
and then I go upstairs to my bedroom
where my closet is exploding with clothes
and then I look under bed full of shoes
and then I go downstairs to my record player
and looks at my various vinyls
and we won’t even talk about my newly
acquired furniture from Amazon
now I understand
my money goes to my busy life
and my BPD spending impulsivity
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/25/cant-forget/
vivo de recuerdos y sueños de lo que alguna vez fuimos
y quisiera morir que vivir en esta soledad opaca y amarga
donde lloro lagrimas que tu nunca veras
y escribo cartas y poemas que tú nunca leerás
Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.
I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed
Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves
New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?
Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say
Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
Fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone
Is my mood stabilizer working yet?
and fuck, fuck, fuck my brain chemistry
it makes me so angry and crazy
Sometimes I’d rather feel nothing
than constantly feeling everything
Between my anxiety, depression, bipolar
And bpd
I can’t trust my brain to tell me the difference
between right and wrong
I can’t trust my heart if my feelings are valid
or if it’s inner critic preying on my insecurities
on day likes this I’d rather disappear
because being me gets so exhausting
Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/02/poesia-la-mujer-de-hoy/
your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me
left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you
left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you
left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world
the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn
the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms
without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down
the woman you left behind no longer exists
she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen
who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves
only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
My heart blooms like a flower in the spring
taking in the beauty of everything
I’m no longer so angry
and feel a freedom to just be
I take things in stride
and no longer feel the need to fight
Is this what healing looks like?
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/15/poetry-your-little-game/
el resentimiento que siento por ti no me deja dormir
tus acciones me hicieron un mundo de daño y me trastornaron
y siempre me preguntare,
¿Por qué fuiste un cobarde y no pudiste dar la cara al desmadre que tu creaste ?
¿Por que somos nosotros que tuvimos que sufrir por tu incapacidad
de ser un hombre de verdad y asumir tu responsabilidad?
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/22/so-much/
el miedo de compartir todo demasiado pronto corre por mi
entonces me hago la chica de tus sueños
la que se viste sexy y se ríe de todas tus bromas
la que da su cuerpo fácilmente sin preguntas o demandas
la que no exige respeto por miedo
de vivir el cuento de mujer dejada de nuevo
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/28/poetry-my-past/
el disco de mi trauma toca en el tocadisco de mi vida
en un ciclo infinito de los errores cometidos
en un ciclo infinito de lo que pudo ser
y trato y trato de escaparme
hallar brazos nuevos que me abracen y olvidarme de él
emborracharme hasta quedarme dormida esperando
la nostalgia de él no me visite en mis sueños
y rezar por una cura, un remedio
para borrarlo de mi mente para siempre
para poder empezar de nuevo con alguien que sepa valorarme
Sin el fantasma de el constante persiguiendome
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
The first and last time I tried to die
I tried to get everything right
I wrote letters to my loved ones
and swallow each pill one by one
All that was easy enough
but really dying was tough
Something inside me was too stubborn
And sent one last text out to a friend
who alerted my husband
Between her and him, I never reached my end
but in that moment
I understood the suicidal writers and poets
Living is exhausting,living is agonizing
I yearned for the sweetness of death
to take away my mediocre breath
But the universe or God had other plans
And today I finally understand
Living is painful,living is terrible
But living is also beautiful
and really living is admirable
I wrote this poem on Valentine’s Day of 2022.
Your false love swallowed me into an ocean of oblivion
and I almost drowned
You consumed my mind with anxious thoughts
of whether or not I mattered to you
And thoughts of death visited me when you ignored me
Feelings of worthlessness and emptiness
threatened my wretched existence over and over again
because of your inconsistent love
But one day, I was enough by myself
I didn’t need your pseudo love
So I’m banishing you to the land of past lovers
who never deserved the magic
of my love
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/26/poetry-indifference/
vivimos en un mundo de indiferencia
pero continuamos fingiendo que nos amamos
cuando en realidad todavía no me olvidado de él
y tu todavia piensas en ella
pero los dos tenemos miedo a la soledad
por eso seguimos juntos en una existencia de falsedad
Life on the BPD 