I wrote this poem in March of 2024.
my morality goes out the window when the madness appears
it’s always a combo of impulsivity and hypersexuality
longing for connection, longing for intimacy
Longing to feel something
other than the emptiness that lies within
It’s a temporary fix as I run away from
my self made prison of stability
I wrote this poem in February of 2024.
I still watch our video, we were so cute together
(sends pic of us naked in bed)
your pussy is fire
I’ll wait for you until you change your mind
I guess loving you is a crime
these are the things said to me by the men
I send to block island
exes and lovers who continuously disrespected me
and never could listen to my no
or respect my boundaries when we tried to be friends
one of them I had to threaten to expose with the story
Of how I broke his dick
the rest made me feel a deep sense of guilt
and covered me with toxic shame for letting them
near me
and I yell at that sick version of myself asking her
“What the fuck girl, what was wrong with you”
she responds, “I was mentally ill and impulsive,lol”
and I try to find forgiveness for all of us
trying to not victimize or villainize but the fire of anger
rises up and I hate them and me
for ever exchanging energies with them
the only lesson learn in this is
be careful, be wary of the nice guys
the guys who talk a big game about respect
and still make you an object of their obsession
they’re the ones most likely to break you apart
here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11683
las salas de chat de aol sirven su propósito
para la atención que le falta en su hogar
lentamente lacie se vuelve una adicta a validación
con su combinación de pobre autoestima
y locura
ella nunca se ha sentido suficiente
usa su belleza y cuerpo para sentirse completa
nadie la para y la cuida
y ella tiene un de citas con extraños
en sus asientos traseros
con solo 16, ella se siente poderosa
disfruta del placer y atención temporaneo
después de la escuela y los fines de semana
sus amigas cubren por
nunca piensa en las consecuencias
siempre dejándose llevar por el momento
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
sorry for sleeping with your husband
I was raised better than to covet my neighbor’s spouse
I knew better than to listen to my impulsive and drunk hormones
and while I could say I was caught up in the moment
of music and alcohol
it’s not an excuse for the sin I committed
it’s a misdeed that I still regret 22 years later
because I hate to think that maybe I was the final straw
that broke up your marriage
because guilt sits at the bottom of my stomach
wondering if I wrecked an otherwise happy home
and ruined an epic love story
and if it eases your mind
karma did get me in the end
I married the wrong person
and suffered through toxic codependency and polyamory
Eventually having a mental breakdown
because of how overwhelming it all got
and ending up divorced with me alone
without any romantic prospects
I learned 22 years too late
what is done secretly and illicitly in the heat of the moment
comes back later to haunt you
comes back to haunt your subconscious in dreams
until you’re ready to acknowledge it and make amends
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
in my island of solitude, I drift further
and further away from romantic love
when I’ve tried to invite others to my island
they always left, and it drove me into hysterics
making a catastrophic emotional mess of me
so now I float alone on my island of solitude
and have erected walls of strength and confidence around it
I will not allow another soul to break them down
only to later leave on a whim, leaving me in pieces once again
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
this time I’ll give myself permission
to let my body explore pleasure
with someone else
telling myself,
“This time I’m keeping it casual,
it’s nothing serious, it’s not a big deal”
I’m just ready to once again
share my sexual magic
write erotic poems about a human
and not my vibrator
it’s time to break my vow of celibacy
and let someone in on my sexual energy
I wrote this poem in August 2023.
I’m curious about the aliens on earth
and if they’re into NSA, telepathic sex
the kind where I get to lie down
and sleep, and they come into my dreams
and make me have multiple orgasms
Over and over again
perhaps these are crazy thoughts
from a middle-aged woman
who’s been celibate for more than a year
And is oh so thirsty for intimacy
but can’t stand the thought of a man
getting near me
it makes me want to vomit
at this point I’d take some extra terrestrial
Out of the universe sex without any feelings involved
the kind that fixes my craving for connection
and intimacy
the kind that doesn’t bring me another episode
of psychosis
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
complaints about the Barbie movie appear
only from the privileged white men on my timeline
and I shouldn’t be surprised
even if those men call themselves allies or feminist
it speaks volumes to me that they voice their opinion at all
about it and decide to post their sexist bullshit
and maybe this is coming from a middle-aged woman who’s crazy
but it’s hard to see that in this instance
Why men can’t stay in the backseat and allow women to shine brightly
without the patriarchy trying to dim their light
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Why Insist?
Pero, porque insistes en algo que nunca será
y querer arruinar nuestra amistad
estas perdiendo tu tiempo halagandome
tratando de conquistarme
porque siempre te considere un amigo, un hermano
tratando de ser algo más sería una falta de respeto
a la relación dulce y pura que tenemos
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
consent is honesty and respect
it doesn’t matter how many time I’ve kissed you
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve slept with you
Always ask me if I’m okay with whatever you wanna do
Instead of pressuring me, instead of harassing me
with your supposed admiration for me
with your stupid pet names for me
I’m not dear, hottie, beautiful, girl or princess
Call me by my god given name
and maybe then I would take you seriously
instead of ignoring you, pretending you’re a mosquito
Impossible to get rid off
I wrote this in January of 2022.
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
anger brings out passive aggressive social media post
sadness tells me I’m worthless
joy makes everything seem magical
numbness makes me want to end it all
hyper-sexuality makes me want to fuck almost everyone
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
I get paranoid, mad, sad, happy, and horny all in one day
My escapes used to be fucking and drinking
But I got older and wiser
And now I run and I write
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
And I learned to regulate and control them
I observe, I listen without judgment
and I honor my emotions
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
but now only for a short time
And I’m in control again
I’m no longer a mess of destruction and chaos
I wrote this in 2006 about my husband and my husband were in a good place…meaning we were having sex again after taking a break for several months from it. I tend to place a lot of importance of sex in a relationship and well…if that’s lacking, I get bored and depressed in the relationship.
For once desire and passion
Has entered our lives once again
And the pieces start to fall perfectly
In our lives again.
Is this a dream or just another short lived memory?
He runs his hand through my back and it’s like
Electrical wires going through my body and it turns on
Something wonderful inside of it.
Whatever happened to our
rut and miserable boredom for each other?
He wants me once again and I want only him.
What did I do differently this time?
I wrote this in the year 2001 after really good sex with my ex Paul. He was 29 and I was 19 at the time. It may have been the first or second time I think. He said to me right afterwards, “Don’t fall in love with me.” Man, I sure know how to pick them. Lol.
He was beautiful
He made love to me with his eyes
He made me melt with the simplest caress
He made me feel like a woman
With his beautiful words and loving touch
We melted together as one
And finally as we reached the end
We knew that as we exploded in the ecstasy
that our lovemaking brought
We are one for the other
And we will be forever
I wrote this is 2006 in for my creative writing class. I wrote thinking about my sexuality when I was a teenager. I was hypersexual from a young age.
She was an adult like sixteen years old
Hormones racing like the speed of light
These were bitter enemies of the cold
Powerful sensations she had to fight
Had the body of a mature woman
But the maturity of one she lacked
But still she chose a stranger man
He told her quickly “Lie on your back.”
She was swiftly incapacitated
Gone forever, her norms and behavior
As her callow body palpitated
With her lengthy new found pleasure
And this was the unforeseen joyous end
Of her already dying innocence
Thank you for the nights full of passion
Thank you for your mouth and hands
that make me lose control
that make me melt like an ice cube
in the sun
Thank you for coming into my life
Even if it’s for an instant
Thank you for being here
Life on the BPD 