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Poetry: can’t think of a sexier metaphor
poetry: the muse
I wrote this poem in December of 2020.
The words, the phrases, the sentences seep from me
when I think of you, my muse
Words of hate, words of love,
Words of devastation, words of lust
You inspire everything that is great,
You inspire everything that I hate
Spilled phrases about my desire for you
and my disgust for you fills pages of my journal
I hate him, I love him, I can’t live without him
Phrases that bleed from my our toxic love af
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poetry: regret
I wrote this poem in December of 2019.
I see your face in my mind
and all I feel is your regret
for the time wasted on you
Regret
for sharing my vulnerability with you
Regret
For the tears that you never deserved
Regret
For the energy I put into us
Regret
That I ignored your red flags
Regret
For the fucks I can’t take back
Regret
For memories I can’t erase
Regret
For wasting my love
on a waste of space human being
below is the Spanish Translation
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poetry: grip
I wrote this poem in December of 2024.
the more I lose my grip on reality
the more I try to write myself
back to sanity
it’s the only way I know
how to deal with what’s
in front of me
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poetry: tricky
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I wouldn’t visit your grave a second time once you died
you’re not worth my time, you’re not worth my energy
I’d already would be forced to say my goodbyes at your passing
due to our familial connections
and I want to be respectful to my sister and nephews
but after that I never want to think about you again
with your death
I want to bury the harm done-the trauma you caused and move on
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poetry: demon
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
I found God as a poet sang on stage sang
“Don’t be scared little child, you’re no demon”
it was a moment of triumph acknowledging
that all of this time, I had been lying to myself
I was never a demon, or the monster larger than life
I had made myself out to be
I was just a flawed and imperfect child of God
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poetry: friendship
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
on days like today when the world hurts
and i can’t stop doom scrolling reminding me
that everything is burning
I put down my phone, pause and breathe
and ground myself in my friendships
which are a reminder of love to me
which are a reminder that no matter what happens
in this world, I have people to hold space for me
which are a reminder of hope
and because of that
I can keep on going
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poetry: david
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I had fallen in love with brown and hazel eyes
Before the disaster with blue eyes walked into my life
Those blue eyes would make me believe in love again
Those blue eyes would be the first to make me want to die of shame and guilt
and cause more trauma than he ever intended
Then again, I was only twenty
and there were a dozen years between us
he should have known better than to fuck
with a girl who was barely a woman
but carnal desire ruled both him and I
And we were tricked thinking it was love
but we were completely wrong
and he got to walk away without any consequences
While I was slut shamed and had to endure the trauma
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I know everything will be alright
Among many crashouts and panic attacks all month, I almost lost hope. However, I didn’t fall off the deep end because I’m too stubborn to give up. I got my sign from the universe today .and it might seem silly but I’ll take it. It was the first time I’ve heard another conan gray song on the radio other than “people watching”
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poetry: mirror
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I want to be just like you, so confident, so carefree
you never allow responsibility guilt you or bring you down
So I mirrored and mirrored you leaving my old self behind
wanting to free myself from the chains off my husband and kids
I wanna be fun, I wanna be sexy
let me fuck whoever I want
and I try but it never makes me happy
it was like jumping continuously on a trampoline of self destruction
sabotaging my chances at happiness, at success
at true self awareness
and one day the trampoline broke along with me
and I picked up my broken pieces
Dismissed the distractions and my need for validation
and I learned not to mirror you or anyone else
I finally found comfort and love in my own skin
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poetry: well,okay then
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
when someone blocks me, I wonder what was the last straw
was is some irreverent post I posted
some salty poem on my blog that offended them
something stupid I said
most of the time I simply let it go and understand
I’m not for everyone but when it’s someone
I considered a friend, I’m stumped
because I thought friends were supposed to talk
things out when conflict occurs
I thought friends were supposed to give each other
Space when they screw up
But I guess in this instance, I must have done something
so unforgivable, so horrible, I didn’t deserve a warning
Before being blocked
And now there’s nothing I can do
I have to accept this was just a season of friendship
and move on
I’ll never know what I did wrong
and he’ll never know how he wrecked me
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poetry: waltz
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
breathing out the past, inhaling the future
I fall into emotional stability and it’s uncomfortable
I didn’t understand or know how to live a life without chaos
because for most of my life
I danced in the fire of chaos-wildly swinging everywhere
Discordant and without direction
And now I found rhythm along with direction
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Inner child
What does it mean to be a kid at heart?
lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder
forget society’s rules that tells you to act your age
to control yourself,
who determines these stupid conventions and norms
anyways
sing out loud at the table, dance in your office
tell a stranger you’re glad they exist,
run in a field of flowers and giggle
lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder
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cherry chapstick
Daily writing prompt
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
With cherry chapstick, I felt like a woman
I felt like a sexy vixen from the telenovelas
even though I was only 9-
and while everyone around me still treated me
like a little girl-
after applying my cherry chapstick
something awakened inside of me
Was it the beginning of puberty?
10/2/22
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poetry: persistence
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
you chased me and chased me until your persistence finally paid off
and I landed in your bed
and now you won’t give me the time of day
make lame excuses for not responding to me texts
and I’m like wow
I never meant to live this cliche in my middle age
but everyone tells me I’m being dramatic
and my feelings feel almost invalid
except this time I listen to my intuition
that something about what you’re doing is kind of fucked up
going from 100 to 0 once you finally got what you wanted
or maybe this is on me for thinking you had changed
and this time we could have something lovely,
something different
how embarrassing for me to be still be naive at 43
but I guess this is the part where I thank you
for the lesson, for the experience
and to please don’t reach out to me when you’re lonely
There are apps for what you want,
there are women you can pay to service you
without any strings or emotional baggage
Life on the BPD 