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Poetry: Border

me in the summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

There is a border around you

Cemented with callousness

Every now and then 

I see glimpses of good-

Within you

But only on the nights

When you are drunk and lonely

Only the nights

When you want my skin 

To cover yours

You give me orgasms 

And sweet compliments

And fill me up with lies-

And the day after

Your border is closed

Its impenetrable

So hard to break through

So hard to keep loving you

So I give up

Every time I TRY

To chisel a little at it 

My heart hurts

and breaks a  little more

So I”ll stop trying to break through

No matter how happy you make me

For a few hours

You’re not worth

Days, weeks, and months 

Of misery 

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Poetry: Once Again

Again and again and again

-I let you back in 

You take me in passionately

    and intensely

And without thinking

I’m back in your arms

  And for the briefest of moments

I believe you love me 

 Loneliness makes one blind

To the sad reality 

You just like the convenience of my hips

Lust makes one blind 

To the hard truth

You just like to use 

The warmth of my body

To covers yours 

At your leisure 

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poetry: rebranding

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

soft girl energy

I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am

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Poetry: False Stability *Trigger Warning*

The last time my ex fat shame me..

Appearances were kept well for 15 years

 the husband, the salaried job, the 3 offsprings

I pretended like everything was fine

And yet there were ominous signs

I never felt like my authentic self

and always felt false

I tried on this so called suburban bliss 

and mediocres routines

but knew it just wasn’t me

So I ended up in  profound misery

And one day I wanted to forever sleep

To forget my mediocre reality

 I took 15 numb feeling pills

one for every pseudo happy year

I wanted to slip into a forever dream

to never wake to my false stability 

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poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity

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Poem : Numbness

Mood

The numbness comes back 

and there is nothing to fill the void

Running, drinking, dancing

Nothing stops the thoughts

about deleting myself

from this cesspool called life

What’s the point?

To love and get your heart 

crushed over and over and over again

I had come so far

and to think this one

was well different

But once again

I was wrong, so wrong

Love stories aren’t meant

for people like me

Because I’m too much,

Too hard, too crazy

To ever be truly loved

But I keep going, I keep continuing 

One step at a time,

One day at a time

to live

Because that’s the right and brave

thing to do

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poetry: buspar

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

image of me when I tried to quit Buspar

I wanted to kill my sex drive so I stopped taking buspar
and while my sex drive has finally waned
the side effects are slowly killing me
between the mental fog, the constant headaches,
the nausea followed by the loss of appetite
there’s a reason they tell you to wean slowly
from psychiatric drugs, to do it under the care
of a medical provider
stopping cold turkey lends to a spiral of madness
and a physical ailment I never intended

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poetry: for once

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

this poem is about me and only me

for once I want to be missed, for once I want to be remembered
for once I want to feel valuable and worth effort
but it’s a fantasy I need to let go of
it’s a dream that will never come true
it’s time to grow up and plant my feet firmly on the ground
acknowledge my worth and hold onto my pride and dignity
and stop chasing delusions and daydreams
aside for all of the inspiration
it’s never gotten me anywhere

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Poetry: Mother of Three

Me and my youngest at 13

Mother of three

What does that even mean?

Responsibilities, obligations, duties

Alcohol and going out are taboo for me

Songs of sacrifices and martyrdom

Are the tunes I hum

Dinner with friends and

concerts are just WRONG!

Soccer games and play dates

Are my important dates

No time to spend 

With my lifetime mates?

Mother of three,

Will I ever be free?

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poetry: three years ago

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

thinking about the chaotic move of May of 2021

three years ago, I was dealing with the most chaotic move of my life
never thought my new home would see the death of me
the princess who moved in
and the resurrection of the queen I was about to become

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Poetry: No Expectations

But I lost it like a promise- Conan Gray

I told myself “no expectations”

“Just use him for a short time”

That’s all he’ll be good for

But his words, his gaze

His hands, his lips

Felt like home the first night

This can’t be happening

This can’t be real 

This isn’t who I want to be with

But my heart wouldn’t listen

To the logic in my head, 

The advice from my friends

I had the first hit and I needed to go back-

I feel like a pathetic drug addict-

I told myself “no expectations”

And yet a year later-

Here we still are in our 

Intense and passionate love affair

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poetry: a snap 3 years later

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

remembering how I posted this snap so the muse of this poem would see it-lol

saw you and knew right away there wouldn’t be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if I’m still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-she’s careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live

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Poem: Healthy is Boring

Healthy is boring

When you only know

pain, strife, and destruction

from those who claim to love you

Healthy is boring

when toxicity and chaos

and insecurity

ruled previous relationships

Healthy is boring

when “love” was a word

that held me hostage

to previous lovers

Healthy is boring 

when for the first time

with a lover 

you feel a sureness

With him 

And you feel like you’re enough

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poetry: every time

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

once upon a time, I was obsessed with a fuck boi

everytime you disappear, I lose an ounce
of the fondness and affection I hold for you
this last time,I didn’t even notice
I thought, good for him
he found someone else to stroke his ego
and validate him
but here you are again
everything I once felt for you
has dried out
and I have nothing left to say
as you try to nonchalantly come back into my life
I’m filled with indifference this time
holding onto my new sense of empowerment
careful to not again fall under your spell
once again