I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
my fingers tingle and almost grew numb
as I gripped the wire
and the tightrope shook
I wanted to give up
it would have been so easy
but something in me didn’t allow me to
terrified I took the slowest step forward
radically accepting in that moment
I will never be a quitter
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I want to fast forward to the version of me
who’s not always in her head
who’s not struggling to regulate her emotions
who’s not so fucking jaded and negative
when it comes to love
who’s not terrified of change
who doesn’t take things personally
I know, I know
I shouldn’t wish to be anyone else
and fully live and enjoy this version of myself
but lately, I’m having a hard time moving on
to the next level of my life
everything feels so comfortable
everything feels so peaceful
I’m scared to make any waves and return to chaos
even if I know it’s necessary to get to YOU
the future version of me who embraces change
with courage and bravery
Only this version of can dream of
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 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
Write about your first crush.
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 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
escribí este poema en junio del 2022.
déjame en paz porque nuestros encuentros
ya no tienen propósito
porque ya no me inspiras
y estoy aburrida
de nuestro cuento caótico
nunca cambiaras
y yo nunca seré la mujer de tu vida
y yo merezco alguien que me trate como algo más
que un escape temporaneo para tu soledad
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
you’re my small town I’ve outgrown but am afraid to leave
no one seems to understand this
they’re concerned you’re holding me back
they’re concerned staying with you stiffens my dreams
and while I know they want what’s best for me
and I agree with most of what they say
How do I explain to them, it’s more complicated
than I’ve made it out to be
while you are hard to live with
life without you feels almost empty
and while it’s the right thing to do to end our marriage
so we can move forward as a family
it’s still hard to imagine a beginning without you
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I called you a villain in my book of lust and love
I never saw your humanity
I never understood how I played my part
in our chaotic and dysfunctional story of love
Instead it was easier to blame you over and over again
It was easier to play the victim
rather than try to accept you as the imperfect human that you are
Rather than to see how you never wanted a “we;
rather than to accept you just wanted someone sometimes
to not feel so lonely
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
you love me anxious,insecure, and a hot mess
and love to add fuel to my insecurities and fears
to keep me with you, to control me
and I try and try to break out of this toxic codependency
tied up in a box of good intentions
with your excuse that you know what’s best for me
when it’s holding me back from realizing my potential
from becoming the most powerful version of myself
it makes me wonder
did you ever really love me
or did you choose me on purpose to build up your ego?
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Our story needed to end and today feels like the definitive ending
You’ll never give me the consistency in love I need
And I’ll never birth the baby you wanted
We’re too different, we’re too alike
and I sarcastically and constantly ask myself “are we having fun yet”
Sometimes we did but most of the time I never understood where I stood
So block me and , forget me
You’ll never be enough for me and I’ll never be enough for you
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
everything annoys me today
playing nice with my OCD coworkers
my kids wanting to spend time with me
when all I want to do is sleep
and let’s not forget
my friend bringing up my karmic relationship
Ugh-will this day ever end
so I hold on to the small victories
like how my boobs look great in my dress
how the curvature of my cleavage is masterpiece
worthy of poetry
and maybe it’s just vanity, but damn
on a hot day full of stupidity
it’s the one victory I’m giving to myself today
Life on the BPD 