Escribí este poema en Mayo del 2022.
Distraída, distraída, distraída
siempre fui así
porque la fantasía siempre es mejor
que la realidad
porque necesitaba escapar la durez de mi vida
vivir en sueños es mejor que vivir la vida
que muchas veces me dejan rota y triste
con las desgracias que me pasan
distraída, distraída, distraída
siempre sere asi mientras tengo vida en mi
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/31/poetry-newfound-emptiness/
busco la adrenalina de amor en los brazos de otro
pero no siento nada cuando el me toca, cuando el me hace el amor
y finjo sentir algo para que el acabe
y me pueda levantar y irme a mi casa
donde lloro y lloro lágrimas inútiles
mientras escucho a Alejandro Sanz
y escribo poemas acerca de la soledad infernal
que vivo cada día que trato de superar
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I wonder where all of my money goes
but then I go home to the bottomless pits
that are my kids
and then I go upstairs to my bedroom
where my closet is exploding with clothes
and then I look under bed full of shoes
and then I go downstairs to my record player
and looks at my various vinyls
and we won’t even talk about my newly
acquired furniture from Amazon
now I understand
my money goes to my busy life
and my BPD spending impulsivity
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/25/cant-forget/
vivo de recuerdos y sueños de lo que alguna vez fuimos
y quisiera morir que vivir en esta soledad opaca y amarga
donde lloro lagrimas que tu nunca veras
y escribo cartas y poemas que tú nunca leerás
Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.
I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed
Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves
New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?
Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say
Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
Fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone
Is my mood stabilizer working yet?
and fuck, fuck, fuck my brain chemistry
it makes me so angry and crazy
Sometimes I’d rather feel nothing
than constantly feeling everything
Between my anxiety, depression, bipolar
And bpd
I can’t trust my brain to tell me the difference
between right and wrong
I can’t trust my heart if my feelings are valid
or if it’s inner critic preying on my insecurities
on day likes this I’d rather disappear
because being me gets so exhausting
Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/02/poesia-la-mujer-de-hoy/
your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me
left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you
left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you
left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world
the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn
the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms
without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down
the woman you left behind no longer exists
she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen
who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves
only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/15/poetry-your-little-game/
el resentimiento que siento por ti no me deja dormir
tus acciones me hicieron un mundo de daño y me trastornaron
y siempre me preguntare,
¿Por qué fuiste un cobarde y no pudiste dar la cara al desmadre que tu creaste ?
¿Por que somos nosotros que tuvimos que sufrir por tu incapacidad
de ser un hombre de verdad y asumir tu responsabilidad?
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/28/poetry-my-past/
el disco de mi trauma toca en el tocadisco de mi vida
en un ciclo infinito de los errores cometidos
en un ciclo infinito de lo que pudo ser
y trato y trato de escaparme
hallar brazos nuevos que me abracen y olvidarme de él
emborracharme hasta quedarme dormida esperando
la nostalgia de él no me visite en mis sueños
y rezar por una cura, un remedio
para borrarlo de mi mente para siempre
para poder empezar de nuevo con alguien que sepa valorarme
Sin el fantasma de el constante persiguiendome
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/26/poetry-indifference/
vivimos en un mundo de indiferencia
pero continuamos fingiendo que nos amamos
cuando en realidad todavía no me olvidado de él
y tu todavia piensas en ella
pero los dos tenemos miedo a la soledad
por eso seguimos juntos en una existencia de falsedad
I still ache inside at times
over past regrets, over past mishaps
it’s when doubt in me starts to rise
And I fear another emotional relapse
but then faith whispers to me
let go of your past and focus on your present
and I float back down to reality
and once again gain confidence
my past and trauma never defined me
it’s part of my heroine’s journey
at times I may have been terrible
but I’ve always taken accountability
at times I’ve felt irreparable
but it’s a false story I told myself
I’ve finally learned how to knock out
those thoughts of how awful I’ve been
I’ve learned the art of compassion and grace
for myself
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/23/poetry-youre-a-mess/
Me alejo de ti porque esto ya no funciona
Me alejo de ti porque no puedo seguir en tu aura
de desmadre y caos que eres
Me alejo de ti por el bien de los dos
para que tu encuentras tu calma
para que yo no pierda mi cordura
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/23/you-suck/
vivo en un mundo de incertidumbre contigo
que me deja agotada, que me das ganas de morir
tratando de adivinar tu siguiente paso
tratando de entender porque que te alejas de me
tratando de ser suficiente para ti
mientras tu apenas me das lo mas minimos de amor y respect
me pregunto -¿valera la pena vivir tanta miseria?
Life on the BPD 