I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Halfway through 41, I am truly alone
no potential love candidates
and sometimes the loneliness threatens to kill my soul-
But I know better than to suffer through another deception
so I process all of my feelings through poetry
Hoping it’s enough to keep the romantic in me
from making another mistake
Here’s is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Crooked Turn
otro giro equivocado más en el amor y perderé la fe para siempre
porque siguiendo repetir la misma tragedia
es una locura que está acabando con mi espíritu, con mi alma
mejor sería quedarme sola que seguir perdiendo partes de mi
por mi anhelo de ser amada
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Let’s go to war with ourselves
and speak our truth and heal unprocessed trauma within
and face our fear and insecurities
we’ll walk out with confidence and feel empowered
We’ll leave with versions of ourselves ready
to reach our full potential and ready to love
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
Insecurities and anxiety from my immigrant childhood
Come out to play and my adult self wants to run away
I thought I was healed from this
I hate these triggers—but I still confront them even if I don’t want to
I cry and write about them, reprocess something not quite healed
Am I on the way to my recovery from BPD?
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
love makes me feel trapped
trapped in a cage of desire and emotions
that I want to escape from
and I still try thinking this time
it will be different except it never is
so I’m giving up for a while-
Giving myself time to prepare for my next victim
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
the facade of equality is cloaked in good intentions and lovely words-
and while laws have been passed to prevent discrimination
and to try to level the game of success,
it’s all a sham, it’s all a con
we still live in a world where the color of your skin and social status
and gender determine your prosperity
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
did you drink your water today?
did you remind yourself you’re worthy of love?
did you understand you were always enough?
will you repeat after me-
I won’t run away from or suppress my feelings
I need to face my emotions head on
or else I’ll break down
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Falsa Esperanza
you were my hope in love restored
everything I had dreamed of
everything I had wished for
and it was nice for a while-
getting lost in our love
thinking it was safe,
thinking it could be my permanent sanctuary
until one day like clockwork
you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t enough
and I was left wondering “what the fuck is wrong with me?”
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
At 5 am, I woke up and wrote a 4 page poem
about how I wasn’t enough and proceeded to crash my car
and my therapist asked if I wanted to die-
And I was like “nah, I just couldn’t reign my impulsivity in”
at least this time I got control of the car and didn’t fuck
anyone else up
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
The rain falls steadily in August
and I feel a sense of dread, a sense of hopelessness
and I want to dwell on everything I lack,
on everything I’m a failure at-
But I stop myself because while sadness has served as inspiration
and has a place in my mind and life
I can’t allow it to take over my life and consume me
because this is not my whole story
I’m more than being sad and angry
What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.
My default setting must be sad
because when a wave of happiness comes
all I can feel is anxiety
a stabbing in my gut that makes me nauseous
maybe I’m still getting used to this new feeling
of joy and excitement in my life
Maybe I don’t know how to deal with
finally being healthy and happy
maybe I’m just used to my constant state of misery
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to water my roots with the supposed love of others
their compliments, their energy made me whole
but eventually they’d tired of being my water, my earth
my everything and leave
And I was left once again incomplete-
until one day I learned to water my roots with my tears,
my strength, my self-love
And now my growth and potential are infinite
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Adios
I keep my screams and cries inside for the sake of my pride
I’ll pretend I’m happy and fine
even as waves of infinite grief wash over me
and I’m drenched in humiliation and shame
for allowing myself to become the pawn in a game
played by another guy who’s only looking for a temporary distraction
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I used to have a tunnel vision of love
thought it could only be felt with someone
but I was wrong
love is in the trees
love is in the ocean
love is in the earth
and love is in myself
my higher power taught me this
and it’s a lesson I’ll forever cherish
Life on the BPD 