Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/25/cant-forget/
vivo de recuerdos y sueños de lo que alguna vez fuimos
y quisiera morir que vivir en esta soledad opaca y amarga
donde lloro lagrimas que tu nunca veras
y escribo cartas y poemas que tú nunca leerás
Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.
I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed
Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves
New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?
Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say
Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
Fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone
Is my mood stabilizer working yet?
and fuck, fuck, fuck my brain chemistry
it makes me so angry and crazy
Sometimes I’d rather feel nothing
than constantly feeling everything
Between my anxiety, depression, bipolar
And bpd
I can’t trust my brain to tell me the difference
between right and wrong
I can’t trust my heart if my feelings are valid
or if it’s inner critic preying on my insecurities
on day likes this I’d rather disappear
because being me gets so exhausting
Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/02/poesia-la-mujer-de-hoy/
your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me
left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you
left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you
left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world
the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn
the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms
without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down
the woman you left behind no longer exists
she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen
who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves
only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/28/poetry-my-past/
el disco de mi trauma toca en el tocadisco de mi vida
en un ciclo infinito de los errores cometidos
en un ciclo infinito de lo que pudo ser
y trato y trato de escaparme
hallar brazos nuevos que me abracen y olvidarme de él
emborracharme hasta quedarme dormida esperando
la nostalgia de él no me visite en mis sueños
y rezar por una cura, un remedio
para borrarlo de mi mente para siempre
para poder empezar de nuevo con alguien que sepa valorarme
Sin el fantasma de el constante persiguiendome
I wrote this poem on Valentine’s Day of 2022.
Your false love swallowed me into an ocean of oblivion
and I almost drowned
You consumed my mind with anxious thoughts
of whether or not I mattered to you
And thoughts of death visited me when you ignored me
Feelings of worthlessness and emptiness
threatened my wretched existence over and over again
because of your inconsistent love
But one day, I was enough by myself
I didn’t need your pseudo love
So I’m banishing you to the land of past lovers
who never deserved the magic
of my love
I still ache inside at times
over past regrets, over past mishaps
it’s when doubt in me starts to rise
And I fear another emotional relapse
but then faith whispers to me
let go of your past and focus on your present
and I float back down to reality
and once again gain confidence
my past and trauma never defined me
it’s part of my heroine’s journey
at times I may have been terrible
but I’ve always taken accountability
at times I’ve felt irreparable
but it’s a false story I told myself
I’ve finally learned how to knock out
those thoughts of how awful I’ve been
I’ve learned the art of compassion and grace
for myself
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/23/you-suck/
vivo en un mundo de incertidumbre contigo
que me deja agotada, que me das ganas de morir
tratando de adivinar tu siguiente paso
tratando de entender porque que te alejas de me
tratando de ser suficiente para ti
mientras tu apenas me das lo mas minimos de amor y respect
me pregunto -¿valera la pena vivir tanta miseria?
Aquí está la versión en Español:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/05/poesia-cobardia/
you burned our novel of love
because your courage ran out
because you couldn’t fight for us-
even when you told me over and over again
how being with me made you feel alive
how I was different from anyone you ever met
none of that mattered because you chose your wife
because she brings you security
because she’s your peace
because she’s comfortable
because you preferred a static and predictable life with her
Instead of living a life full of excitement and challenges with me
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of wonder, full of splendor
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of sadness,full of sorrow
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of love, full of laughter
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of anger, full of hate
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I feel raw with emotions
It’s like someone has ripped off
the scab of an almost healed heart
and it’s bleeding once again
And while this time
it’s not pulsating with anger and rage
it still hurts
like a small paper cut
you can’t see but it’s still there
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I hide the craziest parts of myself
The parts that get sad,
The parts that get obsessed
The parts that lose hope
I hide the worst parts of myself
the parts that feel empty
The parts that feel numb
The parts that want to die
I hide the craziest and worst parts
of myself
so no one else will leave
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I wish I could be perfect to everyone in my life,
the perfect mom, the perfect coparent, the perfect mistress
but the pressure gets too loud within me
And I need to get away from how I want to be perceived
I’ll never be the perfect anything
I’m never be June Cleaver or the perfect dream girl
I can only be authentically and imperfect me
And maybe me and everyone in my life
need to accept that’s the best I can be
Life on the BPD 