Poetry: Fearful

Aquí está la versión en Español:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/05/poesia-cobardia/

you burned our novel of love
because your courage ran out
because you couldn’t fight for us-
even when you told me over and over again
how being with me made you feel alive
how I was different from anyone you ever met
none of that mattered because you chose your wife
because she brings you security
because she’s your peace
because she’s comfortable
because you preferred a static and predictable life with her
Instead of living a life full of excitement and challenges with me

unconventionally pretty

Daily writing prompt
Describe one positive change you have made in your life.

The creases and wrinkles of my body should make self conscious
because I’m getting older, because I’m getting fatter
but I think the creases and wrinkles of my body
make me the most beautiful version of me
My body proves I live a life with an abundance of food
My body proves I’m still here in middle age making mistakes
and learning from them
Society wants me to believe I don’t hold much value
since I don’t fit their standard of youthful beauty
Well I say fuck society and their standards of beauty
I’m happy and proud to be unconventionally pretty

Poetry: Do I have to hide?

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I hide the craziest parts of myself
The parts that get sad,
The parts that get obsessed
The parts that lose hope
I hide the worst parts of myself
the parts that feel empty
The parts that feel numb
The parts that want to die
I hide the craziest and worst parts
of myself
so no one else will leave

Poetry: Best I Can Be

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I wish I could be perfect to everyone in my life,
the perfect mom, the perfect coparent, the perfect mistress
but the pressure gets too loud within me
And I need to get away from how I want to be perceived
I’ll never be the perfect anything
I’m never be June Cleaver or the perfect dream girl
I can only be authentically and imperfect me
And maybe me and everyone in my life
need to accept that’s the best I can be

Poesia: Alejandro Sanz

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/30/poetry-precious-moments/

Al escuchar aquella canción de Alejandro Sanz
Me visita la nostalgia de nosotros y me pongo a llorar
y casi te llamo pero-me controlo
necesito para esta obsession contigo,
Quisiera poder olvidarte
pero, pero, pero no puedo pelear
el amor que todavia siento por ti

Poetry: More than a Diagnosis

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

sorry not sorry

My diagnosis doesn’t define me,
It empowers me, it makes sense of my nonsense
I’m not crazy or chaotic or even hard to love
I’m a dream come true wrapped up in complexity
sure at times I feel like a nightmare
But don’t all of us get rough at times
So whoever gets scared and runs away from me
Sorry not sorry, I’m too much
and you’re just not enough

Poetry: My Fault

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

text message from me to the person who inspired this poem

Maybe I was captious in thinking you wanted sex
but you were really depressed and needed help
I was moody and tired and couldn’t be bothered
so I turned off my phone and wanted to be alone
I thought it was no big deal to not get back
on our idiot ferris wheel
and now I hope it’s not too late
and prioritizing myself wasn’t a mistake
because I couldn’t stand the thought of
you harming yourself be my fault

Poetry: Acceptance

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

me in March of 2022

I fell into the trap of “acceptance”
not understanding I was slowly losing parts of myself
for the sake of fitting in, for the sake of other people
who loved to judge me
accept that you’re too fat to wear that bikini
accept that you’re too old to chase your dreams
accept that you’re too hard to love
it took me too long to figure out
the acceptance of others was costing me
my sanity and my self worth
and I said, “fuck your opinions on who I should be”
from now on, I’ll wear whatever I want,
I’ll chase my dreams, and I’ll always be worthy of love”

Incan Queen

slaying every day with my hard work ethic and my paper and pen

What is the last thing you learned?

Learning to uncensor myself was a hard process
I always walked on eggshells for the comfort of others
Said yes when I wanted to say no
Toned myself down for fear of being too much
Accommodated constantly to keep the peace
Cut off pieces of myself to make myself digestible
But I got too old and tired of hiding who I really am
of continuing to pretend to be something I’m not
or never will be
so I chose to stop hiding the real me
who’s loud and dramatic
who’s crazy and creative
who’s moody and depressed
who ‘s a beautiful and majestic Incan Queen

Poetry: Inadequate

I had forgotten this poem I wrote in 2002 when I was going through something pretty hard.

I’ve fallen out of-
I’m no longer yours to-
I keep trying to find the right words
to tell you I’m done with “us”
but everytime I try
it all feels so inadequate
and I fall under a blanket of shame and guilt
and I can’t go through with it

Poster Girl for Failure

this is so true….makes lemons out of lemonade

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

I used to think I was the poster girl for failure
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life, I’m a failure at everything
but all of these are thoughts of a past version of me
the version of me who saw herself as a victim
the version of me who took comfort in her misery
in my middle age I changed that narrative
I no longer see myself as a failure
I see myself as a person who makes mistakes
who’s deeply flawed, who has caused pain
it’s doesn’t make me a loser or a disaster
It makes me a human who’s trying her best to live her life
and sometimes that doesn’t always look pretty
I now see failure as stepping stone,a learning curve
to continue to grow, to continue to evolve
to become better and healthier than I’ve been before

Poesia: Miseria Toxica

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/03/poetry-tired-2/

Mis amigas son mi peor enemigas
Sacando a la luz todas mis inseguridades
y siento ansiedad que me trae insomnia
pensando si ellas tienen la razón
seré en realidad una mujer suela?
seré en realidad una madre negligente?
seré en realidad una estupida,
por querer superarme?
y me convenzo que nunca
seré suficiente para lo que se
espera de mi
y me siento deprimida
con esta realización
y me quedo dormida
con un corazón lleno
de miseria toxica