I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
love is a magnet for my insanity
love is a magnet for feeling worthless
love is magnet for everything wrong in me
so I locked the door to my heart with a padlock
and threw away the key
I can’t trust myself again to risk my vulnerability
I talk to God all the time-
when I sleep, when I wake up
when I work, when I write
when I run
I thank him for the wonderful life he’s bestowed on me
I ask him for grace when I’m petty and angry
I tell him his love makes me want to become a better mother
A better daughter, a better friend, a better me
because throughout my worst and most selfish moments
He’s given me signs of his love
with the people in my life
with the joy and happiness I find
with the light he shines on me in my darkest moments
This is a poem I wrote in July. I was angry when I wrote it. Lol.
celebrating a country that rips babies apart from their parents
and takes away rights from the marginalized
and makes anyone who’s not white and christian feel unwelcome
feels like the cruelest irony
it’s celebrating genocide, racism, prejudice, xenophobia, and white supremacy
it’s celebrating everything atrocious and wrong about this country
it almost feels like a personal violation of my beliefs
to celebrate the hypocrisy of this country
founded on genocide and slavery
who claims liberty and justice for all
but “all” is really white, christian and male
so I’m passing on this year’s 4th of July celebrations
because except for a small portion of Americans
no one can claim true freedom
or independence in this American Land
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: The Ending
no hay nada más que decir para que te quedes conmigo
ahora me toca vivir otro sueño de amor convertido en una pesadilla de desamor
donde tomó turnos en odiarte y odiarme
donde prefiero la muerte que sentir este infierno de duelo
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
Delusion is believing this time it will be different ,it’s believing he’s not like the others and really gets you
It’s believing him when he tells you he loves you
when you know how this story always ends
Everything will be fine until one day it’s not
and within a few days
You go from lovers to strangers
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The cure for a broken soul is finding love and validation
within yourself
It’s finding beauty in the ordinary
It’s finding joy in the mundane moments of life
The cure for a broken soul is finding faith and hope
in the most trying of times
and accepting the darkness within you is temporary
and not everything deserves your energy
The cure for a broken soul is acceptance and love
from the universe, the source and God
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m making amends with lovers and friends who’ve hurt me
holding this much resentment in feels heavy
And I’m tired of being a slave to past grudges
it feels like an eternal emotional blockage
So I’m filled with empathy and forgiveness
For those who’ve made me feel worthless
Because enough is really enough
and I’m tired of being fueled by hate
I wanna now be fueled by love
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The volcano that lived inside of me
is ready to erupt and about to ruin everything
my explosive anger cannot be reigned in
this intensity is a consequence of my BPD
and it will cause my lover to flee
the lava of me will make him wary
and once again, I’m left
in the desolate land of lonely
wishing away the volcano inside of me
How do you waste the most time every day?
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Our Beautiful Past
viendote de nuevo me hizo temblar
y me odie por que pense que ya te habia superado
pero el recuerdo vago de tus labios y tu retorno
enciende una quimica magica
que no se puede ignorar
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Feeling the fatigue of life makes me want lay down
in an endless sleep-
Some people call it suicidal ideation
I call it relief from grief-
But that’s when I use all of my coping skills
write sad poetry, or write a gratitude list
or just allow myself to feel everything
I’m trying to escape from
and constantly remind myself feelings like this
are always temporary
and tomorrow could bring new and exciting things to see
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Wrong
me arrepiento, me arrepiento, me arrepiento
de la aventura que tuvimos anoche
fue un error, fue un error, fue un error
pero algo me dice que fue destino
descubrir de nuevo un amor alguna vez perdido
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Do I sabotage every love dream
because I’m insane and have BPD?
Or is it the men I pick who easily give up on me
when they can’t save me
Maybe I’ll put this love thing on hold for a while
to enjoy my newfound tranquility-
to focus on my emotional stability
because every time I try to love someone
I end up fucking things up
And it’s not fair to me or them
to make them love an emotional and reckless trainwreck
who never knows when she’s gonna break
Consorting with this newfound empowerment is overwhelming and lonely at times
I finally understand that never again do I have to depend on a man for anything-
and I breathe a huge sigh of relief
I no longer use them to determine my worth based on whether any of them
pay attention to me
I no longer use them for validation and no longer make myself small
for their ego
I now determined my own self worth and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for
since the age of 15
What notable things happened today?
Life on the BPD 