I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
hold me until I forget about how this story usually ends
With me having a meltdown and crying
and you leaving cause you can’t handle it
Hold me until I find enough courage to trust you
to be vulnerable and soft with you
Hold me until you make me believe in love again
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I want to scream, I want to cry
I want to throw myself off the precipice of some cliff
but faith whispers to me
“You will not always feel like this”
and slowly I begin to piece myself back together
and It’s hard at first because I don’t know where to start
Because so much in me is shattered and scattered
But somehow I know that faith is by my side
and hope will quickly follow
and I won’t always feel so lonely, so hopeless
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
in front of our fireplace we remember who we once were
the unhealed and unhealthy versions of ourselves who met
And threw caution to the wind and fell in love
Built our own sanctuary of intimacy
only to give in to our insecurity and fears
and sabotage it all years later and tear it all down
and while we’ve said
It needs to be left in the past
it’s not who we are anymore
We both live with the hidden fear
One or both of us will break again
And brings a war of words
back to our newly constructed universe of love
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
Old insecurities come to visit me again,
they shake up my newly acquired confidence
they tell me I’m not smart enough and I’ll never be truly loved
They tell the only thing I have going for me is how sexy I can be
Otherwise I’m a waste of a person because of my bpd
And I try to shut it all down and not once again drown
Because I have made so much progress and have come so far
Only to once again fight an anxiety and depression war
but it’s daunting not to let the negativity get to me
So here I go once again trying to calm down my brain
from intense and intrusive thoughts by covering myself with self love
I wrote this in May of 2022.
What’s the cost of being authentically me?
not everyone will like me, lovers will run away from me
I have a hard time finding someone who accepts me
but it’s fine, it’s okay
my worth means more to me than anyone
who wants me to swallow parts of myself
to accommodate to them
because my self-esteem means more than acting
like someone else’s dream
so maybe the cost of being truly me is low
compared to the parts of my true self
I would lose for false friendships and false loves
aqui esta versión en Español:
poesía: loba
I’m a lone brunette wolf in a world full of blonde sheep
my exes always preferred blondes over me
I never knew exactly why
perhaps blondes really do have more fun
perhaps blondes are easier to manipulate
this used to bother me greatly,
even robbed me of my sanity and sleep
but eventually I had a great epiphany
the one meant for me will not just love how sweet I can be
He’ll also love and encourage the savage in me
he’ll know how to ride the turbulent waves of my mood swings
I’m not sure if I’ll meet him soon or if he even exists
but after this grand epiphany
I no longer care about my exes and their blonde sheep
In fact, I wish them all the best fairytale ending
escribí este poema en el 2006.
mis rivales siempre son rubias
quizas sera porque ellas se dejan manipular
o porque a mis exes les dan paz
mientras aunque yo trato de ser tranquila como ellas
siempre fracaso porque soy una loba feroz en realidad
nunca fui o seré una oveja que se deja dominar
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
almost cried out anger today
but instead went for a drive
a good choice for me and who I wanted to kill
blasted my music and screamed
“I fucking hate white women”
they seem to be a thorn in my side
all the fucking time
focusing on my mistakes
and snitching to my boss
pretending to be friend
never apologizing when they hurt me
constantly trying to bring me down
trying to make me feel less than
and while I hate how much they affect me
at least today I’m grateful that today my hatred for them inspired me
to write this poem
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questioning your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day
I wrote this sometime in 2006 when I was contemplative about life.
dreams and goals are important
without them life doesn’t have purpose
without them we get stuck in a routine of misery
Without them we end up projecting our insecurities on others
and making ourselves the victims of our lives
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
just when I’m about to close my eyes
the overthinking starts and robs me of my sleep
I obsess and obsess over something thoughtless I’ve said
I try my best to remember the four agreements
I try my best to take control of my emotions
But here I am still losing sleep over something
that won’t even matter in a day or two
I wrote this in January of 2022.
Stuck in between Spanish and English
is a bilingual nightmare
constantly switching between languages
gives me a lifelong jaqueca
and at times I don’t get it right
it’s switching between two identities
Latina or American
it gets hard and confusing at times
but it’s who I am
Hablo con mamá en Español
I speak to my sons in English
Hablo con los pacientes en Español
I speak to my coworkers in English
and to code switch parece una comedia
I’m told that I’m fun and loud en Español
pero soy profesional y reservada in English
eventually I learn to meld
my American and Latina personalities
and I find my most authentic
bilingual and bicultural identity
aqui esta la version en Espanol: https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/09/01/poesia-sin-claridad/
I channel the teenager that resides in me
on days when I’m about to lose my shit
I daydream what it be like to allow
the teenager in me to take over
imagine going to the airport with my passport
and escape to somewhere, anywhere
I’m free to be nobody
where I’m not a mom, a coworker,
a daughter, a friend
somewhere where I can relax and write
flowery poetry about sunsets and trees
instead of writing poems about capitalism,
kids and big karen energy
