summer feels eternal it’s the sixth of september and we’re still in 90-degree weather melting in this heat it’s a global warning with no sign of reprieve it’s a never-ending season that has me sweating and cursing constantly saying FML and calling my friends during panic attacks in the bathroom at work it’s my insanity I can’t seem to rein in all the way, no matter how hard I try and the frustration of it wears me out and make me want to throw in the towel and give up
maybe this is as good as life gets a life half lived but with few regrets Who needs adventure and love when you have the stability of family? Who needs spontaneity and excitement when you have the comfort of home? Who needs connection and chemistry?\ when you have routine and predictability? Maybe this is as good as life gets A life half lived but with few regrets Bored, bored, bored with it all living a woman’s suburban dream of mediocrity to want anything more would break this so-called domestic bliss
I’m looking forward to that pisco sour I’ll have after the judge declares me divorced and free to remarry -ha- that’s the biggest joke ever maybe I’ll land in someone’s bed once again But a ring on my finger -NEVER!- not in this lifetime, not as long as I breathe instead I’ll claim my single status And relish in it as long as I can
Crushes–we all get them at some point or another. It doesn’t matter if we’re 13 or 43. They’re unfortunate or fortunate circumstances in our lives depending on how we look at them. I’ve had more of my share of them, and of course, there’s a playlist I listen to when that happens. As jaded in love as I am, there’s a small part of me that’s still a lovergirl. I’ve tried every way to squash the lovergirl in me but apparently it’s resistant to all of the misandrist poetry I write and all of the books I read about hating men and how love is just the most terrible thing in the world. So I’ve just learned to just let her be and write corny AF love poetry and listen to the most romantic music even if it’s nauseating to me. One of my friends told me the nausea part is some kind of trauma response, and she’s probably right, but that’s another blog post for a later time. Anyways,here’s a few poems I wrote about having a crush and my lover girl playlist. The playlist is filled with that, “wtf, I have butterflies in my stomach at my age, let’s goooo!!!” kind of energy or “lmao,I’m living some kind of modern Victorian infatuation story or I’m straight up delusional” energy. My most recent crushes have been on Ben Affleck, Benjamin Franklin(cause I’m a materialistic bitch) and of course, Yung Gravy. See y’all, I’m not always a hater when it comes to love (contrary to a lot of what y’all see in the blog) , I, too, have a little romantic girl somewhere in me. Maybe I could manifest that Ben Affleck, Yung Gravy, or a millionaire, sees this blog post, gets a crush on ME and makes their way to my hometown and takes me away in their private jet.
Here are the poems:
Not in my plans
I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t in my plans for self improvement But I fell for you in spring I don’t even know when it started to happen All I remember is absolutely hating it hated how soft and corny it made me hated how I started smiling at your messages hated how you started to melt my jadedness about love and how I finally felt like love was a possibility for me
5/2/23
it’s me on a quest to find my Travis Kelce
Fight with the romantic girl
The romantic in me riots and protests and says this solitary confinement is bullshit It’s been over a year since we’ve been intimate with anyone or felt a romantic connection and I try to reason with her “We’re still healing and we’ like to stay emotionally regulated And healthy” and she yells, “no it’s time to take all of our therapy skills out for test drive and find someone we vibe with’ And I answer, “but we’re not” And she screams, “stop with your excuses go find the next muse of your poetry
7/29/23
wondering who my next Ace of Cups will be
So embarrassing
thought I was done with this part of my life accepted solitude was now my new life but you had to smile at me butterflies appear and I want to vomit my heart races every time you’re near And ugh, I fucking hate you for this so embarrassing at my age to crush on someone so hard and to write poems about a new unrequited love And I tried to ignore and quell this feeling but you have the audacity to appear in my dreams maybe it’s your fire energy, maybe it’s your poetry I’m not sure exactly what it is but fuck you for bringing out the romantic in me
2024
I have honestly done this more than a few times this year-I have issues according to Google
Lover Girl Playlist: Ew -Crush Culture
Crush Culture-Conan Gray I’m not in love- Will to Power Begin Again- Taylor Swift Bad Habit-Steve Lacy The Prophecy- Taylor Swift Late Night Talking-Harry Styles Sanctuary-Joji Dreaming of You-Selena Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter Overdrive- Conan Gray Still Falling for You- Ellie Goulding Ceilings- Lizzie Alpine People Watching- Conan Gray Footnote-Conan Gray Dress-Taylor Swift Means Something- Lizzy McAlpine Enchanted- Taylor Swift Clementine-Yung Gravy The Louvre-Lorde Pessimist- Julia Michaels Risk-Gracie Abrams HOT TO GO-Chappell Roan Mastermind- Taylor Swift So High School- Taylor Swift Still Chose You- The Kid LAROI Invisible String-Taylor Swift Long Story Short-Taylor Swift So American-Olivia Rodrigo Disaster- Conan Gray Lover- Taylor Swift
Below is are the links for Spotify and YouTube in case you do want to get in touch with your inner romantic:
Crush Culture makes me want to spill my guts out-Conan Gray
September comes in with a rage and determination in my heart to keep on moving with a new purpose to heal and evolve into the healthiest version of myself without condemning myself over my past misdeeds and obsessing over how toxic I once was so what if I allowed myself to be a doormat, to be stepped on over and over again? so what if I wasn’t the mom my kids deserved? Every day is a brand new start to live a life Intentionally and with purpose to continue to grow, build, and expand exponentially because while my past has impacted me and I’m still dealing with the consequences of it I need to move past it, leave it behind I’ve learned everything I need to learn from it now it’s time to build my present for the future I deserve to live in
I’m armed with my notebooks and journals full of poems and stories
what cannot be said aloud will be written in a poem for better or worse I have a tendency to process my emotions in metaphors and verse and while many wouldn’t call what I write poetry because I lack technique or an MFA or whatever else I’m missing I’m going to keep writing my raw emotions Down and sharing them My words hold value, My words have power And it has helped and a few other souls when our feelings lack logical explanations and reasons For better or worse I’m going to continue to tell my story in poetry
No one is coming to rescue you, princess no matter how much you wish to be saved or try your hardest to manifest a prince to carry the heavy burden of responsibility you’re constantly lifting No one is coming to save you, princess It’s up to you to save yourself It’s up to you to continue to work hard and be selective on what you expend your energy on No one is coming to help you, princess You’re no longer relying on others for a sense of identity or security and you’re now an independent Queen who’s learned only she herself can save herself and is wise enough to block out any negativity or toxicity that threatens her autonomy or wants to bring on another Emotional relapse
My bra is the milkshake that brings men to my playground It gives me the cleavage that makes them feel like they’re in love They’ll claim it’s my words or my eyes they’re in love with , but let’s not kid ourselves It’s really my majestic breasts that pop out with their own personalities they fuel their many exotic and erotic fantasies
Flowers bloom with patience and care where there is sunlight and love Flowers remind me of relationships when relationships are not given the right environment or patience and love They die I’m a failure at both-
Am I doomed to men trying me on just so they can change their minds- days, weeks, months, years later is it some kind of karmic energy in me I still haven’t found the remedy for? Perhaps I really need to stop trying to find hope in love and stick to what’s working for me and that’s being alone
this was the best AI generated Art could do…idk,,lol
I met you on a cold January night at the IHOP across your apartment complex As I was eating up my loneliness with scrambled eggs and coffee I hoped you couldn’t see remnants of tears that had fallen before you came and you sat across from me and as we awkwardly made conversation I wondered if you would be the one to breathe new life into my almost dead existence I wondered if your kiss would help me reignite a fire of desire, would remind me I’m more than a wife and mother But most of all I wondered if maybe, just maybe someone would finally love me
I collect crushes like little boys collect pokemon cards I’m addicted to the potential of love without doing anything about it except to occasionally test their waters Nonchalantly sliding into their DMs And posting a thirst trap selfie and celebrating with a love song when one of them likes it or comments on it hoping one of them sees past my salty poetry hoping one of them is brave enough to ask me out for coffee and wants to get to know the real me
the tragedy of my anxiety is that I overthink things until I sabotage everything and while I’ve worked on this for a couple of years I still have problems when good things happen to me It’s the demon of insecurity coming back to fuck with me who wants me to fulfill my self fulfilling prophecy of defeat
Life on the BPD 