I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
When I fall in love, I lose control, and I lose my power
and it’s painful
because now I have someone to lose
and I don’t deal with loss very well ever
and suddenly I’m all about them, them, them
be understanding, be sweet, be accepting
Be everything
I’ll go to the depths of hell and back for them
but most of the time, they won’t even cross the street for me
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I’m trying my best to find gratitude for this trauma anniversary
trying to let go of that catastrophic day
trying to quell the anger, rage, and grief, my body kept score of
it’s going to be a day of triggers and emotional dysregulation
it’s going to be a day where traumatic memories take up space in my mind
and body
the best I can do it try to take comfort that every year it gets easier
And some day it will be unimportant
that someday I’ll find a way to write about this day without breaking down
that someday I’ll forget that this day meant anything
but today I’m acknowledging one of the worst days of my life
honoring the rollercoaster of emotions that still comes up
and make me want to vomit
and find compassion for myself and the person
who drove me from the edge of my sanity
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I want to be dripping in velvet and have the problems of the rich
like finding a new pool man
because the last one got sick of my condescending and pompous ways
or cry because I’m bored and can’t figure out how to fill up my day
in a way that keeps me entertained
but instead I’m stuck in my working class cursed life
where my joints and bones ache in chronic pain
from constantly over working
where I’m constantly fighting to make ends meet
without losing my sanity
And constantly questioning my existence because of my suffering
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
As I let go of my self limiting beliefs,
I grieve the woman I used to be
so insecure and unsure of herself
so hesitant to take control and power
Overthinking and catastrophizing constantly
it held me back from living the life of my dreams-
Jealousy and envy filled me up
Scrolling the professional and personal successes
of others on social media
Thinking, “that could have been me”
and giving too much importance to the opinions of others
wondering constantly-
“are they judging me?”
It was a toxic story I told myself since the age of 16
and it continued on and on until one day in my middle age
I exploded and decided to fight my inner critic
and challenge everything I thought was wrong with me
slowly, I learned to turn my story around
Slowly, I went from victim to heroine
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I’m a poet, I’m a writer but when it comes to expressing the romantic in me
I have the hardest time
I’m great at expressing my anger, my disappointment, my shame
but when it comes to love, I shy away and put my guard up
it’s a mix of trauma and cognitive distortions I’ve held within me
since the age of 16
self limiting beliefs that no man has ever loved or respected me
and failing at all of my love stories no matter
how hard I tried to succeed, no matter how much I accommodated
or changed for my partner, he leaves me
and I’m left flabbergasted, devastated, traumatized
so embedded and attached to my past tragedies
I’m apprehensive and hesitant when it comes to trying on someone new.
when to comes to pursuing anything more than friendship
it leaves me in the land of “I don’t know how to fucking do this again
without it breaking me”
and so I sit still, waiting for my crush to say something, do something
to restart my heart once again
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I avoid the flutter of butterflies in my stomach at all costs
I don’t want to get lost and consumed by love
Some people call this avoidance cowardice,
Some people call this a trauma response
I call it keeping my sanity intact
and being more safe than sorry
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
it’s not romance, it’s harassment
placing me on your dream girl altar
and telling me about your boner
Even after I told you no
But then you still threw me your delusional love
and when I was honest right way
and I told you “I’m sorry but no”
somehow now I’m a crazy bitch,
a stranger
who’s letting her mental illness talk for her
after calling out your misogynistic behavior
All I said was no to you and the insults come on cue
I warned you, didn’t I and now foul, you cry
I told you I wasn’t ready for what you had to offer
but you kept playing the part of my great admirer
and maybe I’m fucked up in the head
but your fantasies I needed to behead
I needed to keep myself safe from men like you
who try to bully me into loving them
into giving in because your endless attention
and compliments
haven’t you read my story?
I’m not no longer a woman who bends and bends
to man’s thirst for me
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
after the thunderstorm came and went
I wrote a hundred poems about what happened
I didn’t know how to process it
and 1 hour in therapy didn’t cut it
the epic flood of grief that followed
and while it may seem excessive and melodramatic
It was either I kept writing
or I kept dreaming of dying
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
we could have been friends but you ruined it
by crossing my boundaries
by showing your unhealthy attachment to me
saying you’ll wait for me to change my mind
acting like I’m a challenge to take on
seeing me as an objection of your affection,
a pretty girl to jack off to
so I was left with no choice but to block you
from my universe
if you can’t respect my “no” and listen to me
when I’m assertive about it
I’m sorry it’s not me, it’s definitely you
and you can no longer have access to me
maybe upon a time I thought I needed you
to validate me, to make me feel sexy
but now I see you were just a temporary fix
to give me confidence
and when I saw how unhealthy this was
I tried my best to be honest with you
let it be known that I’m not here for any sexual or romantic energy
but you didn’t take me seriously
and now we can’t even be friends
we are far better off as strangers
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I never paid much attention to where I put my body
I never really cared as long as my sexual needs were met
as long it was called sexy
but this habit hurt me over and over again
Until one day I was trapped and couldn’t breathe
and I watched my body from afar being desecrated
by the person who claimed to love me
after that day-
I grew protective of my precious body
ran away from anyone who might hurt it
my body is too much of a masterpiece
for me to allow it to ever be
defiled and disrespected in the name of “love”
I wrote this poem in June of 2018.
I wake up on a Sunday crying
you’re not here in my arms
once again I was too much,I was too crazy
so I lay alone in my bed numb and empty
Wondering-
will I ever find someone to fill this void within me ?
will I ever find someone who will truly love me?
will I ever find someone with the patience of a saint
who won’t leave the minute I go insane?
!
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
we talked about the various colors of the sunset
but were never still enough to watch one together
we ran out of time and love
to watch poetry written in nature
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Got two hours of sleep last night
But I still woke up with excitement in my bones
Excited about a future without you
Excited that you’re really gone from my life
Because while I loved you and had many good times
You were never going to change, and neither was I
We were on the road to nowhere
And now that we’re forever apart
We’re on the road to somewhere
Somewhere that gives us space to grow
Somewhere without the pain and drama we caused each other
Somewhere that brings us the peace and love we need
to be authentic
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
today I’m being too hard on myself
always thinking about how I’m not doing enough
about how I’m not hustling enough
how there are still days when my anxiety
gets the best of me
I’ve tried my hardest to quell my inner critic
but it still visits me when I don’t have enough sleep
or when my inner winter is about to hit
and it points out all of my insecurities
and I try to hack my brain into being confident again
but all I can do is feel disgust and shame
as a new cycle of insanity hits
And if it’s bad enough I cry
or it kicks me in the gut and makes me sick
and my body says enough is enough
that’s when I finally listen to it-
rest, recharge, understand this is just one day
and not my whole life
I wrote this poem in June of 2020.
She wants to get away
but her heart won’t let her
She wants to stop loving him
but everything in her
refuses to do so
She doesn’t want to miss him
but her body aches for him
He inspires a war within herself
and just when she thinks she’s won
the war and they are done-finite-over
He comes back to her with a 2 word text
and she lets him back in
Life on the BPD 