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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

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Poetry: Independence Day (a love poem)

I wrote this poem in the summer of 2019 when C had ghosted me for the millionth time and I thought that I was finally done with him and I was determined not to go back with him. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case. This relates to one of my BPD traits which is fear of abandonment. I think one of the reasons I kept letting him come back.

Me in the Summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

I’m finally free 

Of the spell 

You have over me

I’m finally free

Of the butterflies 

I felt when I saw your text

I’m no longer blinded

By your callous ways

I will no longer tolerate

Your undercover mistreatment

I can no longer be part of

My continuing self destruction

I’ve learned to stay away

From the intensity of your gaze

I’ve learned to love myself enough

To stop holding on to your false love

I’ve learned to stop ruining my life..

Because of our connection?

Our chemistry?

Nah, it’s just bomb ass sex. 

I’ve learned that my self worth 

Can’t be tied to you, my toxic lover

My self worth

Is tied into my self love

Into loving the best parts 

And the worst parts of me

But most of all I’ve learned 

That no amount of orgasms

Or passionate kisses

Or sparks 

Are worth me agonizing 

Once again

If I’m good enough

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Story: The Ocean

List of pros I made when Mr.Toxic ghosted me in late 2019

I wrote this in the summer of 2019 when Mr.Toxic had once again ghosted me. I think so much of me was obsessed with him because of the chaos he brought into my life. Also, even though I hate to admit it, he brought so much inspiration to my life that I ended up writing over 50 pages of poetry/ mini stories about him. He was my muse for a while and I think I became addicted to him.

There once was a girl and she fell in love with the ocean. The ocean engulfed her with its salt smell, and the warmth of the water on late nights. The girl swam and swam, deeper and deeper into the ocean-loving it more each day. One day the ocean got tired of the girl and decided to make the biggest wave to throw her back to the land. When the girl woke on land, she was disoriented, confused, lost and hurt. She wondered if her late night swims had been a beautiful and hopeless dream. So a few weeks went by and the girl returned to her normal reality of her every day . She went through her normal routine even though her heart hurt-she slowly recovered from the crash of the ocean and just as she was almost to her normal self. The ocean decided to call her back again. At first, she couldn’t believe it-she thought her ears were deceiving her-but it was clear that the ocean wanted her to swim in it again-for whatever reason. The girl felt special and lucky and even though she was hesitant -she swam again in the ocean. This time -it was deeper and more intense. She felt at one with the ocean. She felt honored to learn all of its secrets and was completely enthralled by it. She was finally beginning to feel safe and so vulnerable she started to float and let the ocean carry her. All of a sudden the ocean got tired and threw her again-this time the crash was way more devastating . It felt like she couldn’t breathe at times. She knew that she should deal better since this had happened once before but this time she cried more than ever. She felt worthless and used in every sense of the word. She wondered what sin she had committed that the universe had handed her such unimaginable and tremendous pain. It was hard this time to get back to normalcy. It was hard for her to go about her day and not burst into tears because her poor heart would spasm when something brought back the memory of the ocean. And then the process repeated itself a few more times. It was more exhausting and devastating each time. It’s like she couldn’t learn and see how damaging the ocean was to her soul. Finally there was a time where it was so brutal the girl finally learned to tune out the ocean’s song and she never swam again. 

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Childhood Memory: 1986

Me around the age of 5, shortly before immigrating to the States

I was standing on one side of a closed door and I heard a conversation that I will never forget. I remember being five years old and running such a high fever that my vision started to get blurry and I had a massive headache. I remember the loud whispering between my parents. My father wanted to take me to the hospital, my mother argued they couldn’t because it was too much money. It was something that my newly arrived immigrant family could not afford. I remember that was the first time I felt something extremely heavy within me. I didn’t know then what it was but it would be the first time of many times I would feel that guilt of being a burden to my parents. Eventually it would turn into a certain type of guilt that made me swallow words and feelings so I wouldn’t inconvenience anyone. I have carried this guilt within me throughout since I can remember.This is a quiet BPD trait. This trait would lead me to becoming a people pleaser later on in life. As I have gotten older, I’ve gotten more aware of this and have become more assertive in making my needs known and met. I’m still not where I want to be but at least I’m way better than I use to be.

Below are a couple of links about Quiet BPD:

https://themighty.com/2018/12/quiet-borderline-personality-disorder-bpd-signs-child/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-emotional-intensity/202107/what-is-quiet-bpd

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Letting Go and Moving Forward-Drunk Edition 2020

It’s really hard to be vulnerable in this space but somehow I feel safe. Maybe it’s the lack of carbs along with almost a bottle of champagne and the almost anonymity. For the first time in a long time, I’m doing pretty good in life. I’m making this busy life of working almost 80 hours a week work for me with 3 kids, a great potential partner, a soon to be ex who’s my best friend/roommate, and the best friends any gal can find. I’m not failing at both of my jobs. In fact, I’m killing it and even had some “unusual” success at my second job. The guy that’s been my in my life for almost the past 4 months, has slowly moved from friendzone to something more last month and well he’s being very patient with my skittish behavior and my busy schedule. The second date and the last time we saw each other, he looked at me like I was magic and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. So much of me wants to run away because I’ve never encountered someone that just wanted to really know me. Usually dudes, just put up this pretense of wanting to know the “real me” because they really want to be laid by someone “exotic” like me. Even, my soon to be ex husband pulled this trick. Haha. Do I blame them? Nah, It’s human nature to want to get laid, especially for guys. But, “A”, new dude, he’s different. He checks all of my potential great partner boxes and yet, I want to run. Maybe I’m scared of happiness finding me because I know how fleeting it can be.

Which leads me as to why I’m writing this post at midnight while kind of drunk as I listen to the saddest and cheesiest pop songs ( Hello Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, Adriana Grande and my favorite, Ariana Grande…etc-you get the point-haha). I finally said goodbye tonight to the fuckboi that has been haunting my life for almost 2 years on my own terms. To explain our story, well, you can look back on other posts and angst ridden/love poetry. Two words to describe our long term situationship, intense and toxic. It’s a cliché but I never knew I could feel such intense hate and love for someone until I met him. I was F.Scott and he was my Zelda, my muse, my long term obsession. The last time we had a falling out, he ghosted me for 3 months and you guessed it, he came back the day after I had my second date with “A”. It’s like he senses when I’m happy or almost happy and comes back to cause chaos in my life. And my masochist tendencies went to see him even though I know our story always ends up in devastation for me. And even though, I was angry with him and I hate him, somehow I still wound up in bed with him. I knew that night like I knew the first night I was with him, I love him and part of that is that when I’m with him, he makes me feel like I belong to him. I’ve never felt that with anyone. It’s intoxicating and addictive and hard to give up, obviously.
However, the sex, the chemistry, the love I feel for him will never be enough for us to make things work, for him to change into the partner I deserve. I’ve known this for a while but hung on to hope looking for signs that maybe he would change if I “stayed” long enough tolerating his narcissistic bullshit and the awful way he treated me. It’s amazing how love can make one so foolish and dumb. I recognize and am aware in my own part in this toxic mess we both ended up making for 2 years. And even though I recognize the toxicity of whatever I have/had with him, it’s still hard to let go. It’s hard to let go of the fact that maybe I won’t feel this with anyone else. But then I tell myself, I don’t want to feel like this with anyone else. It’s crazy, toxic, and makes me lose all of my common sense. So tonight after I texted him “Goodbye” for the last time, I allowed myself to drink, have a mini breakdown, and isolate myself from my friends. I’m not even grieving him or the potential of the great love story we could have been, I gave up on that idea a long time ago.

Tonight, I’m allowing myself to just really move forward from him and start a new chapter where he no longer takes up space in my universe. Tonight, I allow myself to feel that I do indeed deserve all of the success professionally I encounter. Tonight, I allow myself to acknowledge that I do deserve someone like “A’ who values me more than just a girl he can fuck. And even if things end with him, I can hold on to the hope that there is someone out there for me that really sees me and believes I am indeed magic. I’m never again settling for kinda half ass effort just because the connection/chemistry is off the charts.

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Eliza Conquers Writer’s Block: Poetry Edition

Emotional Nonsense

I try to write words
that smoothly flow
But they don’t come to me easy
Maybe I just suck at poetry
But I will keep trying and praying
That I will become good at this thing
Before I painfully decide
To give up this poetic life
And on paper try to make some sense
of my emotional nonsense