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Poetry: Remembrance

I wrote this in April of 2003 about the first Andrew, the guy I fell in love when I was 16. I had gone to Hawaii in April and went to the beach we use to go to and I wrote this poem. Yes, I was still having nostalgia about a short relationship from 5 years ago. One of my BPD traits is being obsessed with some of my romantic partners after the relationship has ended after a long time.

Kailua Beach, Hawaii

So I take a walk on the beach
Where we used to come
And make promises of young love
But like the waves of this tumultuous ocean
Our lives took turbulent and separate turns
and our beloved promises
Got forgotten somewhere in between
And for some reason I keep thinking
A new tide will come in
and I’ll turn around one day
And you’ll take me in
With a welcoming embrace
And fate will remember us
Once again

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Poetry: Hard

I wrote this in January of 2003. I’m honestly surprised that after so much disappointment in the dating world, I still had faith. I guess I was still a hopeless romantic at that point.

It’s so hard sometimes to be nice
When you’ve cried so many times
Over so many sorry ass guys
When you are always done wrong
You wonder what’s taking so long
To find a warm hearted guy
Who’ll give you the moon and the sky
To find that special man
that was written for you in the sand
Sometimes you almost want to give up
and just suck it up
And say “I’m so through”
With always being used
But you have to have faith
That one day you’ll find somebody great
And all of these lonely nights
Will finally have an end in sight

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Poetry: Gone

I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.

it’s like that sometimes

I woke up one day
To see that you had gone away
All you left was a note
You could no longer cope
With our love mess
You had tried your very best
To be the man I wanted you to be
The one who only cared for me
You had only pretended to be true
And now you say the time has come
You’re sorry it took so damn long
All that is left is goodbye
You tell me to not even ask why
You wish me the best in life
One day I’ll make a great wife
And with your signature you sign off
I hope that someday you’ll find true love

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Poesia: Moriste Para Mi

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba bien enfadada que el me rechazo y abandono porque su madre no aprobaba de mi.

eso

Tu moriste para mi
Cuando te fuiste de aquí
Y decidiste que yo no era más
Que una de tus muchas faldas
Pero tu te equivocaste
Al pensar que yo soy cualquier otra mujer
NO! Yo soy algo divino y estupendo
Que pena que tuviste miedo
Pero sabes algo
Ya no hay modo
De que algún día te perdone
porque eres un cobarde
Y ya no me importa
de amar tu nunca fuiste capaz
Y quizás es mejor así
Ya no me puedes herir
Y habré llorado bastante
pero de mi ya no te doy un instante

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Poetry: Lust High

I wrote this in December of 2002. This was written about John before he ghosted me. If you can’t tell already, I have a tendency to idealize the men in my life.

it be like that sometimes

I haven’t felt this way in a while
I just get high from talking to you
You just drive me so damn wild

You just don’t know
How you about kill me
When you have to go

Now I couldn’t even imagine
Living without your presence
You are my most wonderful sin

And I will pray every night
That my love you never try to fight

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Poetry: Our Beautiful Past

I wrote this in November of 2002 about Matt. Even thought I was still resentful over the trauma I had been through because of him, I still had a somewhat idealistic perspective over what happened between us during the time we spent together. It was weird.

but its hard for someone like me to understand that

I never thought seeing you again
Would make my world tremble again
I thought I was over this
A few years back
When I was left with nothing
But the faint memory of your lips
But seeing you again like this
Brings back all of these memories
of our beautiful past

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Poetry: Thirty-Nine

I wrote this poem on February 22, 2021. I wrote this while I still in a relationship with my most recent ex. I really thought he would be the one to stay but it wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. I look at year 39 that in spite of facing constant depression and craziness because of COVID, I still had something important in life and that was love even if at the end it didn’t work out. It was a year full of magical moments that I will never regret.

February 22, 2021

Last day of thirty nine
and I look back on this decade
with love and no regrets
The decade started with my third
miracle of life
and ended with the miracle of love
The decade started with a once stable
and normal suburban life
and ended with a chaotically busy and poly life
The decade started with a half loved marriage
and ended with an almost separation
Toxicity ruled 2 and a half years of the decade
but he left
Now I’m left with a new determination
to fulfill my potential and let no one
or nothing stop me

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Poetry: Thirty-Eight

I wrote this on February 22, 2020. I had started working at Kroger in October of the previous year, was still trying to stop my situationship with “C”, and had just started dating my most recent ex-the second Andrew. I was becoming hyper aware of my unhealthy relationship patterns and didn’t want to repeat them and had my guard up but life happens and well I fell in love.

February 22, 2020

On the last day of 38
I’m filled with so much hate
Hate for the life I never had
Hate for me and my soon to be ex spouse
and for our toxic codependency
The year has been filled with highs and lows-
I was prolific with my poetry about my toxic lover
My toxic lover that follows
a pattern of toxic lovers
since the age of 15
Toxic lovers that abused me, used me,
and discarded me like trash-
Toxic lovers that made me
question my worth
Toxic lovers that left me breathless
with chemistry that felt like a drug
Toxic lovers that I kept coming back to
out of the habit of not loving myself enough
Toxic lovers that never want to define an “us”
Toxic lovers-that starting 2 weeks ago
I will leave forever alone
And on year 38
with all of my hate and rage
for my mediocre life
I decided to fight
Fight with determination and purpose
for the life me and my kids deserve
Fight with my body
working endless hours
with fatigue and sore knees
for the future I always wanted
A future that looks independent and thriving
on my own
A future that will become
my own universe who no one can enter
I may cry, I may want to die
but I will not give up-
not when I’m so close
And even though I met a ray of hope
with my first lover’s name
towards the end of year 38
My walls will stay up and guarded
No piece of my vulnerability
Will be exposed to him
until I’m sure it’s not the same old toxic codependent story
On the last day of thirty eight
I work on inner healing
I work on inner peace
I work on goals
to finally emerge as a butterfly on year 39
On the last day of 38
I say forever goodbye to toxic patterns and lovers
I say forever goodbye to the old insecure me
to welcome the new and confident me-
I say forever goodbye to my once comfortable
and mediocre life to welcome a universe
full of great potential–

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Poetry: Thirty-Seven

I wrote this poem on February 22, 2019, the last day of being 37. It was a chaotic year that was filled with lots of ups and downs. It was the year I met “C” and who I now referred to as my “good” ex Jake.

February 22, 2019

Last day at 37 and I am humbled
By the calm that comes after the storm
That was last year
Several waves came
In the forms
Of the average millenial fuck boy
Pretending to converse
In hopes of DTF
It was fun, it was sexy, it was tiring
And when I was ready to quit the tinder world
My blond hurricane
Torpedoed into my life
One sweltering and lonely July Night
He took over my damaged heart
And mind
He took me on a rollercoaster of emotions
From rays of happiness
To rowdy winds of devastation
With more hellos, goodbyes and I love yous
That I’ve had in a lifetime
It was crazy, it was chaotic,it was love
And in one of our
Almost solid goodbyes-
In waltzed the amber of hope
He slowly put back together
The broken pieces of my heart
The hurricane had left behind
He made me believe hope
Was within my reach
He calmed down my chaotic thoughts
He held my peace and happiness
In his hands
It was good, it was easy, it wasn’t enough
And I just crashed back into
My previous existence
Of married monotony and routine
Again, I am alone and empty
In my solitude of motherhood and marriage

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Poetry: Could I Be The One?

I wrote this in December of 2002 about John. I had only known him a couple of weeks and had already become so infatuated with him and obsessed.

love is an adventure

Could I be the one
who makes you stop having fun?
Could I be the girl
who becomes your whole world?
Could I be the light
in your darkest nights?
Could I be the passion
who becomes your inspiration?
Could I be the hope
Who helps you cope
Could I be the love of your life
and possibly even your wife?

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Poetry: Your Little Game

I wrote this in October of 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. I had a lot of residual resentment for my son’s bio dad. Therapy would have helped with processing processing the trauma but at least I had poetry.

my truth, my trauma

The thought of you never escapes my mind
not even for just one night
Your little game has caused me a lifetime of hurt,
resentment, and pain
Now I’ll never be the same
And I will forever ask myself
Why is it me and our innocent child
the ones to suffer for your thoughtless actions?
Him, without someone to call dad
and me,taken away from my youth
Forced to grow up too fast

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Poetry: Fucking Waste

I wrote this in November of 2002. As I mentioned in my previous post, November was a chaotic month and I can’t remember who I wrote this about. Haha. Obviously I was angry at this dude. Maybe he ghosted me? Who knows?

Oh and I’m still learning -haha

I know you didn’t mean to
But you’ve made me so blue
With you nonchalant ways
To you I was just a fucking waste
So tonight I’ll leave
Why does this always happen to me?
Ending up with jerks like you
Maybe one day I’ll get a damn clue
And stop fucking around
with you fucking clowns

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Poetry: Wrong

I wrote this in November of 2002. November was such a chaotic month that year that I don’t remember who wrote this about. I think it was probably a one night stand that I had a connection with. It’s obvious that I read way too much into the situation than I should have.

Oh it does

My mind tries to forget
Everything that happened last night
But my heart puts up a fight
My mind tells me it’s wrong and a mistake
But my heart yells that it wasn’t just sex
But it was also fate
My mind considers it a lost cause
but my heart finds a love feeling once lost

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Poetry: Remorseful Sentiments

I wrote this in 2002 and it wasn’t actually inspired by any past relationships/ breakups. I don’t know, maybe I understood deep down that I had a tendency to self sabotage relationships.

the post trauma is the worst

Remorseful sentiments of you still come to mind
And I ask myself
“How could I have been so blind,
to screw up everything
that meant everything to me?
With my selfishness and lies,
I destroyed our paradise
And I still remember the look upon face
As you drove away full of disgust and hate?