Posted on by pattytacuri

Poem: That Special Key

Para la version en Espanol:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/07/06/poesia-la-llave-especial/

This was one of the first poems I wrote in 1996 so I was 15. I didn’t realize then that I would always use writing as a way to process my many, many feelings after breakups. I also want to mention that this breakup of 1996 is the one that I mention in my other blog post :

A New Diagnosis: BPD

another related poem is this one:

Poetry: Another Mate

I sometimes wonder what went wrong
Was it you not telling me “I love you” just that one time
Or was it me and my wanting to have you all the time
Sometimes I get pissed
Wondering why I did that or this
Or maybe I couldn’t understand
If only you gave a damn
And even though it’s been a long time
And even though we’ve gone our separate ways
My love for you still hasn’t fade away
It still grows with each passing day
And even though it can never go back to how it use to be
You’ll always hold that special key

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Poetry: I Still Love You

I wrote this in 1999 about ex. I’m not sure which ex this was about to be honest. Lol. I guess I was just feeling both nostalgic and super salty at the time.

me in 1999 around the time I wrote this poem…lol

I still love you
I don’t know why
I guess you were one of the few
I was proud to call my special guy
Or maybe you were the first one I was with
To give me that special gift
By loving me the way you did
You never made me feel like a little kid
But then she came
And to you I became
A thing of the past
That came and went by fast
But still I wish
You wouldn’t have met that bitch
Because I know
You wouldn’t have let me go

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Poetry: Losing My Mind

I wrote this in November of 2001. It was of course about what I thought was the most horrible breakup of my life. Lol.

I’m losing my mind

Learning your promises were just false lines

Your love meant so much to me 

I guess this means no anniversaries

I just couldn’t handle

When I got that infamous call

Especially when she had to say

That you had gone her way

And you had given away my hugs and kisses

You destroyed all of my innermost wishes

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Poetry: That Night

I wrote this poem about my oldest son’s dad about the night I met him. I was obviously infatuated right away as 16 year olds tend to be. He was 21 and I was 16 and that situation was really predatory but at that time, I didn’t think nothing of it.

That night
You took my sweaty hands into yours
And my heart started beating fast and furiously

That night
I looked into your sincere and beautiful brown eyes
And knew that you were for real

That night
You put your arms around me
And made everything seemed possible

That night
You kissed me gently
And worked your way up to my lips

That night
You professed your love to me
And made time stand still

That night
I found what I was looking for
In your arms, that night

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Poetry: Same Old Ugly Song

This was written in November of 2001 after a breakup. I think of 20 year old naive me that put her all of her trust into this guy who appeared to be a “nice guy” only to be deceived later on. I don’t remember how or when but suddenly I was writing all of these poems to process the anger after that deception. How I process things after a traumatic event has changed throughout the years but it has always involved writing.

At first I thought your love was sweet

You even had me at your feet

Then you did a 180 turn

And I finally learned

That you were the same old ugly song

Just another pathetic con

So my love turned into an ocean of hate

Of realizing way too late

How blind I had been to see

that you were only using me

And it burns me so bad

That you drove me into a quicksand of sad

And unfortunately I still remember 

That loving and understanding was what we were

But you ruined that when you went to her

And that’s what caused “us” to go under

And I hope you and her were meant to be

Because you’ve seen the last of me

I am completely done

Waiting for the day you’ll come

Even though I may be lonely 

I have to accept you’re just a bad memory

Now I have to go on

Hoping I won’t end up with 

The same old ugly song

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Poetry: To the One Who Claimed to Love Me

I wrote this in the summer of 2019 during a break from “C”. I think that during this break, I thought we were really done and I was super salty about it.

Me in the Summer of 2019

To the one that claimed to love me

I was yours, you had me

But you decided to dispose of me

I wrote poetry about you

Thinking your feelings were true

But my feelings, you made fun of

By claiming you felt love

You treated me like a barbie doll

And you told me over and over and over again

I love you

When your words should have been 

I love fucking you

You claimed to not be “that guy”

Yet you almost made me want to die

You claimed to be different

But you turned out to be the same

Asshole man 

You claimed I was the only one

But I was one of many you used for fun

You acted like you cared 

You wore your lies well

And now that our lust filled 

Fiasco is done

I still don’t regret that I was the one

Who loved you honestly, genuinely,

Purely-

And you blew your chance 

At ever having me

You were a hard lesson to learn 

And I was the girl 

You weren’t ready for 

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Poetry: Merry Go Round of Fuckery

I wrote this in the summer of 2019 about C when we were on another break. Thinking back on this period in my life when I would get so mad about him ghosting again and again and going back to him again and again feels so strange now. I don’t feel like the same person that wrote this.

me in the summer of 2019

We’re back here once again

You ghost, you ignore, you abandon

And I beg you to come back

It’s our merry go round of fuckery

I’m mad,I’m sad, I’m done

I’m finally almost recovered 

From you-

Trying to forget you, mourning you,

 Accepting you’re gone –

And then a text from you

It’s our merry go round of fuckery

Crying, writing, running

Each day it gets easier

Learning to forget you

But then, a “how are you”

Appears on my phone

It’s our merry go round of fuckery

Will you ever go away?

Am I always going to be this insane?

When will I get off from 

   Our merry go round of fuckery?

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Poetry: My Bad Habit

I wrote this about C. in the late summer of 2020 after we were yet on another break. I guess the sex really made me obsess over him.

me in the summer of 2020

I can’t turn my body off 

From wanting you

Even if you make my heart blue

You take up space in my brain

Even when you bring me so much pain

Why does lust make me so blind?

You are my obsession 

Even after your devastation

You show up in my dreams

I wish you didn’t exist 

I wish there was a spell

To forget how you made me melt 

I’m sure that time

Will make your memory fade

And will time

make me heal from 

The experience of you 

I just wish that time

Would speed up so that

You were only a distant memory

That I already learned to forget

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Poetry: Another Girl

I wrote this in 2001 after experiencing a really bad break up. Break ups tend not just break my heart but also make question my self worth. It’s really hard for me to get over someone especially if I get super attached to that person. In this case, I had been with the dude for like 2 months and I guess thought that maybe he was “the one”. Well that wasn’t the case when I found out he had been cheating on me the entire time. At least it inspired dozens and dozens of poems. Lol.

You make me feel like shit

and it’s breaking me bit by bit

I don’t know what to do 

Knowing you love someone new

I feel so helpless

I’ve become such a big mess

and now seeing you and her

I see now that I was just another girl

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Poetry: Reborn

I wrote this in late 2007 as I reflecting about my life and how much I had changed.

The nostalgic ocean

reminds me of

everything that 

I’ve lost.

Former flames, former friends

swept in a 

wave from under me.

My former self

died in that wave.

When the wave

came back…

I was stronger 

and better.

I was reborn again.

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Poetry: Ghost of Mamacita

I wrote this poem in 2018 shortly after the death of my maternal grandmother/mamacita. My grandmother lived in a time where her opportunities were very limited by society’s rules about what a woman should be.

The ghost of my grandmother 

  hangs above me 

Her spirit swallows and 

  Envelops me-

It tells me to live

  a life full of passion and love

Without self imposed boundaries

It tells me to stop 

 being afraid of my promise 

  and potential

  and takes risks and 

  Go for my dreams

  No matter how many 

    obstacles stand in my way

It tells me that I only 

 have one life left to live

And I need to start 

living it fully instead

 of standing on the sidelines

Waiting for something or someone 

to rescue me

It tells me 

Stop waiting

Now it’s your turn