aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
you were my hope in love restored
everything I had dreamed of
everything I had wished for
and it was nice for a while-
getting lost in our love
thinking it was safe,
thinking it could be my permanent sanctuary
until one day like clockwork
you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t enough
and I was left wondering “what the fuck is wrong with me?”
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My default setting must be sad
because when a wave of happiness comes
all I can feel is anxiety
a stabbing in my gut that makes me nauseous
maybe I’m still getting used to this new feeling
of joy and excitement in my life
Maybe I don’t know how to deal with
finally being healthy and happy
maybe I’m just used to my constant state of misery
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I give my pain and sorrow to God
and it lessens the heaviness in my soul
and I’ve never felt lighter
and I laugh more and feel content and gratitude
and I no longer want to die
Instead I’m excited to live
I’m excited about my wrinkles and every birthday
because I’m finally enjoying the gift of life
God has bestowed on me
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I was trapped in a mental cage of misery
I didn’t know how to rewrite my story
and while poetry helped me
it was with grief and therapy I finally felt free
I learned to let go of old resentments and grudges
and healed old emotional bruises
and while I still have minor annoyances
my anger and angst no longer control me
I wrote this poem in 2019.
Our relationship slowly wilted
Too many broken promises
Too many sacrifices on my part
I gave you my youth and you two children
and you couldn’t give me an ounce of affection
I tried to melt your icy cold wall and you denied my warmth
And I tried over and over again to save us!
But how do you save something that continues to die?
Date nights, long conversations,accommodating to your needs continuously,
and marriage counseling
but all of it was useless and completely pointless
So I gave up and let our marriage fall into a coffin
along with your broken promises to change
I even kept the coffin open with a slight hope we could fix us
But one day I got tired of waiting, waiting and waiting
and I decided to close the coffin and nail it shut-
It was time to bury our lackluster love
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
If you inspire me consider it a gift
it means you’ve made an impact on me
sure my words may feel angry
but that’s just me processing
because I have the most painful mental illness
and writing angry poems is how I deal with it
if you become my muse I must have felt something for you
could be hate or love
if you’re lucky, it’s both
that means you’ll be bestowed with endless poetry about you
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Error
forgetting him will be your biggest regret one day
as you grow older, you’ll wonder about what could have been
if only you had found your courage
if only you hadn’t been so passive
and now it’s getting too late for you to be a father to him
the seeds of resentment are growing in him
the damage of your abandonment is irreparable
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
love is a magnet for my insanity
love is a magnet for feeling worthless
love is magnet for everything wrong in me
so I locked the door to my heart with a padlock
and threw away the key
I can’t trust myself again to risk my vulnerability
I talk to God all the time-
when I sleep, when I wake up
when I work, when I write
when I run
I thank him for the wonderful life he’s bestowed on me
I ask him for grace when I’m petty and angry
I tell him his love makes me want to become a better mother
A better daughter, a better friend, a better me
because throughout my worst and most selfish moments
He’s given me signs of his love
with the people in my life
with the joy and happiness I find
with the light he shines on me in my darkest moments
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
Delusion is believing this time it will be different ,it’s believing he’s not like the others and really gets you
It’s believing him when he tells you he loves you
when you know how this story always ends
Everything will be fine until one day it’s not
and within a few days
You go from lovers to strangers
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m making amends with lovers and friends who’ve hurt me
holding this much resentment in feels heavy
And I’m tired of being a slave to past grudges
it feels like an eternal emotional blockage
So I’m filled with empathy and forgiveness
For those who’ve made me feel worthless
Because enough is really enough
and I’m tired of being fueled by hate
I wanna now be fueled by love
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The volcano that lived inside of me
is ready to erupt and about to ruin everything
my explosive anger cannot be reigned in
this intensity is a consequence of my BPD
and it will cause my lover to flee
the lava of me will make him wary
and once again, I’m left
in the desolate land of lonely
wishing away the volcano inside of me
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Do I sabotage every love dream
because I’m insane and have BPD?
Or is it the men I pick who easily give up on me
when they can’t save me
Maybe I’ll put this love thing on hold for a while
to enjoy my newfound tranquility-
to focus on my emotional stability
because every time I try to love someone
I end up fucking things up
And it’s not fair to me or them
to make them love an emotional and reckless trainwreck
who never knows when she’s gonna break
I wrote this poem in January of this year
My lack of worth of self-esteem allowed me to accept
not even the bare minimum from lovers
as long as they showed any interest in me,
any sign of wanting me, I’d give them my energy
made them the muse of my poetry
put them on a pedestal where I worshiped them like a deity
and made what I mistook for love my religion
thought each one was the one because of my inability to find self-love
it was the version of me who thought the world began and ended
with the love of a man
It was the version of me who didn’t know that alone
I had always been whole, I had always been enough
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
should pay rent for the immense space
they take up in my mind
they crowd me and make me question
my worth on my low days
they show up with intrusive thought saying
I’m not good enough
or I don’t deserve my wonderful life
my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
Constantly try to bring me down
and sometimes even my affirmations
aren’t enough
Life on the BPD 