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Poetry: Thoughts

I wrote this in November of 2002 about Matt when he contacted me again and said he was coming to see our son for the first time. It was a really confusing and chaotic time for me. Even after everything that had happened and I had been through I was still romanticizing him. Ugh. Gotta love that BPD.

ain’t that the truth

I thought my feelings for you
had come to an end
When you thought it was best
For us to go our separate ways
And all of a sudden
Once again you appear
Explaining you felt a strong need
To be near me
That in your time away
You realized you made
The biggest mistake
By breaking us apart
You broke your own heart
A part of me is sad
A part of me is happy
I want to save my dignity
What am I to do?
I want to be with you
But don’t want to end up a fool

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Poetry: Early Excitement

I wrote this in November of 2002 after meeting John. When I get excited about someone, I get EXCITED!

basically

I don’t know how you got me
to feel like this again
So happy, so free
For once, I’m excited about living
Maybe it was the way
We danced to the music
Quickly finding our own rhythm
Or the way you kissed me
Gently on my face
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s love

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Flash Fiction: Passage of Regret

She came in before him into the same house she was at a year ago. She wonders to herself why she‘s there at all. She knows the minute she steps into the room; it will be like welcoming back a ghost into her life. She feels like she has no choice. He offers her a drink, and she gladly takes many, hoping that this will numb the outcome her mindless and impulsive actions have taken her to. She wants to say “no” and that she has a boyfriend she wants to be faithful to but knows that now it’s too late. She stops him for a minute after he takes off her shirt and unhooks her bra. She tells him she needs to use the bathroom, and in the bathroom, she writes this. A night she would like to forget.

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Poetry: Newfound Emptiness

I wrote this in November 2002 after a seeing my one of my exes. Chronic feelings of emptiness are one of the symptoms of BPD and in the past I’ve tried to escape it with alcohol or sex. I tried sex this time and it didn’t work.

You DO!

She wants to enjoy herself
as his once familiar hands and lips
explore her body
But she can’t

He kisses her breasts
and she feels nothing

His hands touch those special
turn -on places in her body
And her body remains cold and numb

Then she realizes this meaningless act
of intimacy she uses to satisfy
her body’s urges
is no longer enough

She now needs something more,
she is frightened but the newfound emptiness
Of it all
She realizes she need love

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Poetry: My Past

I wrote this in 2002 about Matt, my oldest son’s bio dad. I was about to see him and having a lot of feelings about it.

My past hangs over me

like a song that keeps 

repeating itself over and over again

The more I try to run away from it

The louder and closer it gets

I don’t want to do it

But I will have to face him someday

It is better sooner  than later

So I can start looking 

Forward to my future

Myrtle Beach South Carolina …

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Poetry: You’re a Mess

I wrote this in 2002 about Damon. When we first started dating, things were great and then they weren’t. Right off the bat, he took me to meet his parents and daughter and he even met my son and my parents. However, we both had our issues and were probably not at a place to be in a relationship. Honestly, I was with Damon to escape loneliness even though we were incompatible and I think he was using me for the same reason. The sex was good and I grew to care about him but I never loved him. We would sometimes have these fights and ghost each other and then come back to each other. Maybe I was just too tired at the time to find someone I was more compatible with.

story of my life

I wish you were as simple as slow dance
but you’re a fucking mess
Like an upside down cup of coffee
And I don’t want to be part of your insanity
So I’ll tear myself apart from you
And perhaps clean up some of your mess
even if my heart will bleed ,even if the tears will fall

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Poetry: Coward

I wrote this in June of 2002 when I was ghosting Ron. I was avoiding his phone calls and emails. I kept procrastinating on breaking up with him,

Forgiving myself is hard

My dear boyfriend
Sorry for being a bitch
You’ve probably noticed it’s you I ditch
Sorry for being such a coward
And being a big fat liar
Sorry for not giving you the love
you definitely deserved
and never putting you first
Sorry I wasn’t the “one”
And being so wrong
Sorry for waiting to break our ties
And all of my sorry ass lies
Sorry for never loving you
And never giving you your value

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Poetry: Escape

I wrote this in May of 2002 about Lucas. I was missing him and feeling nostalgic about him. It was hard because while we were still keeping in touch via email, we hardly saw each other.

It’s almost always like that

I tried to escape the thought of you
But it follows me wherever I go
Your scent, your voice, your kiss
Always remains fresh on my mind
No matter how long it’s been
Even if I try my hardest
To live without you
I somehow end up again
Trapped in the caged memory
that was your love

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Poetry: Do I Know?

I wrote this poem in June of 2002 and almost 20 years later, I still have the same questions. Lol. At this point, I don’t know if I’ll ever know what romantic love and that’s okay. My life is filled with all kinds of different love that I’m not focused on finding romantic love or really care to.

if only

I want to write about love
but do I really know what it is
Is it a certain look?
Or a certain action?
Is it caring for someone’s happiness
more than your own?
Or is it being with the one
that makes you crazy
and your heart race
with the sound of their voice?
What is love?

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Poetry: Mixed Feelings

I wrote this in 2002 about my coworker Lucas. This is a good example of the black and white thinking that happens with me when I’m in a relationship.

It’s always a war, I’m never the same after

You’re so close to me
And impossible to reach
You’re the one I want to be with
And the one I want to run away from
You’re my best dream
And worst nightmare
You’re my reason for my happiness
And the epitome of my frustrations
You give me a reason to live
And a reason to leave this life
You’re the first on my list
And I’m the last on yours

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Poetry: Looking Forward

I wrote this in 2002 fantasizing about the love and life I wanted. Poor 21 year old me, she was so damn naïve.

it’s a lesson in learning my worth

I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life
wrapped up in your arms
I’m looking forward to newlywed bliss
Having a little one with your gorgeous smile
And in old age, sitting in our rocking chairs on the front porch
I’m looking forward to petty arguments, responsibility, and bills
What I’m looking forward to the most is to being your wife

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Poetry: Infatuation

I wrote this in January of 2002 about my married coworker Damon. When I have a crush on someone, I kind of use to get obsessed about them. It’s borderline Joe Goldberg vibes. Lol. I can’t tell if it was me having BPD or me being a normal 20 year old.

that’s how I felt

So I look at you
with my droopy lovesick eyes
And talk to you with my schoolgirl crush voice
Because that’s all I can ever do
It can never go further than that
Because you’re married to another
And that’s something I’m obligated to respect
The only thing left for me to do
is to stay away from you
maybe then my obsession
Will slowly disappear

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Poetry: Not That Woman

I wrote this in 2002. It was one of those moments when I was having one of those moments where my self esteem was high and I was like fuck love, I’m awesome by myself.

me in 2002
me in 2002 when I wrote this poem

She is not that woman
who needs a man
She alone fulfills her dreams
Without him, her face still beamsme

She is not that beauty chick
Who has all the men at her feet
She’s got something else
When the world of beauty fails

She is not that pushover girl
Submissive with the golden curls
She’s got her own mind
Love is not worth her time

She is not that Ms.Prom Queen
Who wants an engagement ring
A husband she could care less about
She’d rather not take that life route

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Poetry: Without a Goodbye

I wrote this poem in 2001. I think that this poem was inspired by seeing what one of my family members was going through during their separation.

life is strange

Walking through this house
so full in every single room
are memories of you
the living room where
you held me
the kitchen where we dined
the bedroom we made love
kind of hard to imagine
all that is left,
are pictures of you
in my mind
but I have to accept that
this house will be
empty and cold
just like my heart
since you left
without saying goodbye