Day 20 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt is “Falling in Fall” .
Poem of the Day: Last Fall
Poetry: Caught Between
I wrote this 2001 when I took a break from writing angry breakup poetry-lol. As an immigrant that grew up here, I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life. Issues with identity are also another trait of BPD. I think this was a time in my life when I was especially reflecting on this part of my identity because I was become aware that men were fetishizing me.
Caught between two worlds
what am I made up of more
hopefully I won’t ever have to choose
sometimes I wish to just cut loose
Too Latina for the American side
Too Americanizada for the Latino side
So what is the politically correct term for someone like me?
Not American, not born here
Not fully Latina either
for I lack that latin allure
So I’ll call myself one of a kind
a girl with much Latin beauty and an American mind
like a delicious half and half cream
whose taste is an amazing mixed dream
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Poetry: My Pathetic Little Beast
I wrote this poem in 2006 about my tumultuous relationship with writing. I love to write and it’s saved me more times than I can count. However, I tend to beat myself up if I’m not writing enough.
Instead of tears from eyes that long to spill,
I will spill words onto these pages.
Words that make sense,
Words that don’t make sense,
Many are in fact nonsense
I will let my emotions, the wind
And my surroundings guide me until
I fill up these pages
Full of nonsense, prose,
Poetry, ideas, and everything I can think of
This will be a new phase
this new phase will be full
of promise and potential
And it will also be full
of what I hope is the inspiration
that leads me to share my relationship
to the world.
this will be my fourth baby
Another one I will nurse and raise until it is
As beautiful and complete as my
real life ones.
This is the promise I make to
my pathetic little beast.
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Poetry: The Difference
I wrote this in 2006 after I was reflecting my first years of being a mother to my eldest child who I had at 17. Becoming a mother at such a young age didn’t make me the best parent and at times I still tried to act my age and party a lot even though I was a parent. It used to eat me up inside but I’ve come to terms that I did the best I could under the circumstances.
Late nights at the club
Drunk and dancing-you
Singing lullabies
Until he fell asleep-I
Getting ass from
an unknown stranger-you
Looking for monsters under the bed
and wishing them away-I
Waking up in an unknown place
With a helluva hangover-you
Waking up from little hands
Shaking my shoulders-I
You and I=me
Me =two different truths
About the way your childhood
Was seen
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Poetry: Racy Lacie
I wrote this is 2006 for my creative writing class.
Dressed up in lace
She gets into his car
He drives away in haste.
She’ll never go far
On this path to nowhere
Her life becomes tar.
Doesn’t seem to care
That she is treated so rough
With a life so unfair
Is she a black dove?
Or just a drug addict?
Did she ever know love?
What made her so damn sick?
Why don’t I understand?
What made her so chaotic
Man after man
All for another fix
From the candy man.
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Poem of the Day: The Dragon
Day 14 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge . Today’s prompt is “Breathing in the Fire” .
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Poesía: Imbecil Racista
For the English version of this poem, click on the link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/20/poem-racist-jerk/
Querido, lo que dijiste
me partió el alma
nunca pensé que eras un racista
no se si te pueda perdonar
quedarme contigo mataría mi alma
Lamento haberte conocido
Y me duele decirte
Tenemos que terminar
Nuestro cuento de amor
Te deseo lo mejor
Ojalá que algún día
Dejas tus prejuicios atrás
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Poetry: The Light
I wrote this in 2006 about my husband, then boyfriend. I tend to put a lot of my worth in the person I’m romantically involved with. This is another BPD trait.
Rising from darkness I struggle to find
the light in the oblivion
that has become my life.
The light is bright with love without conditions .
The light tells me I’m good enough.
The light is you.
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Poetry: Dying Innocence
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
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Poetry: Thank You
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
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Poetry: My Happy Place
I wrote this poem in 2006 when I was in the midst of my quarter life crisis.
There was once a place
It was my happy place
But it forever disappeared
When puberty appeared
Now I live somewhere else
Where almost everything fails
Where there are no more giggles
And everyone is fickle
Where being sad
Is the fad
And no one cares
About anyone else
What I would give
To get away from this
And go back to
Where no one is rude
And everyone smiles
And no one is a liar
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Poetry: Despicable
I wrote this poem in 2006 for my creative writing class. Men in general inspired this poem. Lol.
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
It is that which makes me gawk
The realization of your words so thin
Give my heart a monumental sting
I should’ve put on my idiot proof smock
You should’ve stayed silent as a rock
Instead of whispering nothings to me on the dock
That’s when I should’ve stopped listening
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
Your mouth should’ve been padded with a lock
Then you wouldn’t have taken me on a walk
To your park full of crock
I got on your moronic swing
I shouldn’t have answered your knock
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
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Poesía: El Desenlace de Mi Adolescencia
Here is a link to the English Version:
Poetry: Fun is Gone
Escribí este poema en 1998 pensando como mi vida iba a cambiar por mi embarazo precoz.
Terminaron las travesuras estúpidas
y la playa con mis amigas
y tener un montón de enamorados
Los próximos años estarán llenos
de pañales y baberos
y noches desveladas
Así será el desenlace
mi adolescencia
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Poetry: She Flew
I wrote this poem in 2006 when my mother-in-law passed away. She was an incredibly kind and lovely person.
She flew one afternoon without warning
leaving us in a state of grief and mourning
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
And now everyone left behind
Has rivers running from their eyes
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
Regrets and remorse
Has become our two worlds
Why did she have to fly ?
Was it really her time?
No fancy words could ever express
How it feels to lose your best
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
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Poetry: Trapped
I wrote this poem in late 2005 when I was going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids.
Trapped in a maze
Not knowing where to go
Gotta get out of this place
Before becoming conformity’s whore
A maze with traps
Like kids and responsibilities
It’s all getting too suffocating
And I can’t breathe
