I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
The lighthouse stood on the shore and I swam to it-
the lighthouse was full of love-
a love I had always dreamed of-
it was solid and unlike water which runs through my hands
a love who will never leave and truly accepts me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
3 years ago I took the wheel for the first time by myself
and there was no going to the dependent woman I once was
3 years ago I said fuck it, if I crash and die, it will be fine
after all I’ve been suicidal since I could remember
3 years ago I took the keys and landed in the driver’s seat
And from that day on, I understood the power I held within
and how never again I’ll give that power to others
I wrote this poem in October of 2020.
He’ll ask me,
“How are you?
And I wanted to say–
“Miserable. Bad. sad. I hate you.
I wished for your death a thousand times.
I miss you. I love you.”
Instead, I said, “I’m okay”
And in the silence between our texts
I wondered
“Why? Why did he come back?
Why did I let him back in ?
Why do I love him?”
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
beneath the fog, I almost crashed my car
I wasn’t drunk, just under the influence of seroquel
and crazy from the euphoria
just experienced in the arms of my ex lover
Beneath the fog, I almost crashed my car
but I used all of my DBT skills to calm down
and manage to park my car at a gas station
To gain my composure
and suddenly Kid LAROI is blasting
from some zoomer’s truck
with a message for me from the universe
that I’d be alright despite
life’s almost disasters
and that the sexual creature I’ve held with
for most than two years
is alive and well
and ready to make up for lost time
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
just call me J.Lo without the ass because my ex
(if we can even call him that) came back to me
after 2 years of sobriety
we’re the low rent version of Bennifer
since we’re not millionaires
or celebrities (yet)
I’m just a working class immigrant poet
and he’s my ex whatevership nordic muse
I wrote this poem in October of 2020.
He swallowed 2 years of my life without meaning to.
He swallowed 2 years of my love that he never intended to
He swallowed all of my intense and innermost feelings
and left me with an emptiness inside.
He swallowed my confidence and turned me into a broken shell of a woman.
And slowly I’m trying to gather the broken pieces and repair my soul–
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
that luminescent feeling in my heart
I glow from the inside out
about to burst from joy and excitement
a poet on stage singing songs
about heartbreak and finding love
it’s Conan Fucking Gray
it’s the happiest day of my life
I found hope once again
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
what will be done with pure intentions and in alignment with my values
will nurture my creative spirit, will be the ultimate recipe for success
and will be a legacy of authenticity for future generations
Sometimes I wonder who I’m doing it for
and I find the answer when I look in the mirror
when I look at my sons
what I imagine my grandchildren
and I’m committed again to my life’s purpose
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
telling our stories, reading our poetry
building community
is the salve for humanity
let’s start another revolution of love
except this time without the drugs
this time let’s make something more inclusive,
more accepting of everyone
let’s keep the music, the frolicking in the fields,
the free spirits,
and let’s become a sanctuary for one another
if we do this, we’ll have a shot at breaking away
from the curse of violence that plagues this nation
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
to really love me, you have to know every part of me
and not just the parts I show you
but every single inch of my soul
it’s observing me when I’m quiet
or when I laugh in the most uncomfortable moments
to really love me, you have to learn about me
read my essays, my stories, my poetry
and understand what is not written between the lines
to really love me, you have to know not just what I like
but what I really loathe and why
to really love me, you have to accept everything about me
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
the sound of my love will not come with “I love yous”
or cute little texts with heart emojis
the sound of my love comes in loud waves of poetry
in the playlists I make dominated by Taylor Swift
and Conan Gray
the sound of my love is a lightning bolt
that will not be ignored
it’s me telling the audience
I hate being vulnerable but I cannot quell
the romantic girl in me
when she feels something and then reading
a love poem she wrote
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity
as I drink too much
as I search for someone’s touch
the moon sends the Goddess
with a message of awareness
and I wake up from my trance of self destruction
and start an inner healing revolution
my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified
it was my judgment gone awry
and I try respect and worth on for size
my beauty is not all there is to me
I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity
never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
soon we’ll be back to business as usual
obsessing over taylor and travis
clicking on clickbait about ben and jen
finding another celebrity to cancel
over some politically incorrect crime
of their past
soon we’ll go back to business to usual
as mothers still mourn their children
over another violent tragery
that never should have happened
soon we’ll go back to business as usual
as my son and his friends are hypervigilant
over anything suspicious
at 13, this world has taken away their innocence
soon we’ll go back to business as usual
as we go back to our stupid jobs
whether that’s a 9 to 5 office setting
or back breaking labor
as if evil didn’t happen at our community’s door
soon we’ll go back to business as usual
and I’ll write another poem about unrequited love
or the ex I dreamt about last night
soon we’ll go back to business as usual
except this time I’ll carry a when and where
in back of my mind
waiting for it to happen again
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
my guardian angel sighs in exasperation and frustration
she’s tired of my self destructive behavior
she’s tired of being hyper vigilant
as I tear my life into shambles
and now she sees it’s too late
there was nothing she could’ve done
to stop me from giving into attraction and chemistry
and she wonders how this story will turn out
Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.
the ceilings of America are laced with poison ivy
every time I act out of the norm or forget to code switch
people tell me I’m too dramatic -ouch-
accused of being toxic and crazy-damn
and a rash of doubt takes over my mind
I’ll never fit it, no one will ever love or accept me
and I turn down who I am
but even that doesn’t work
it makes things worse
and I explode and project-
fuck you, you’re blocked
then I discover therapy -slowly I heal
accept the pieces of myself that will never fit in
exhibit myself in my most authentic form
and slowly the poison ivy becomes an ivy of love and growth
and I understand that to be happy
I need let go of normalcy
and embrace my unconventional and eccentric self
Life on the BPD 