I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
someday everything won’t feel so heavy
someday I won’t swim in anxiety
someday I’ll find self love
Someday I’ll be enough
Someday, someday, someday
Maybe someday is today
today I see the light
today I’m grateful for my life
today I feel like enough
Today I have self love
Maybe just maybe
Today I’m truly happy
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
I’m constantly shunned from men who profess their love
when I show up feral and without a filter
They’ll call me their princess until I show them my wild
They always love me beautiful and submissive
and they leave when I get assertive and subversive
They feel deceived when they fall for a polite princess
And somehow end up with an amazon Queen
Maybe it’s the Incan in me who can’t reign it in
They say, “you’re too much, you’re too crazy”
Is there a man out there who can handle my duality?
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
I’m 18 and walking across the football stadium to receive my diploma
the one I almost didn’t get, my parents and I breathe a sigh of relief
I’m 24 and I hold my baby boy in my arms, it’s love at first sight
he’s the best birthday present and I’m humbled
I’m 28 and I’m graduating from college,it’s been a an arduous journey to get here
but I make it and my dad cries and tells me how proud he is of me
I’m 30 and holding my third baby boy, he’s my rainbow after the worst storm
everyone in my family holds him and there is an overflow of love
I’m 36 and my oldest son is walking across the gymnasion to receive his diploma
I cry with elation and pride, my heart is filled with pride and joy for him
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice
I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021
I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright
I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog
I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best
I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer
I wrote this in January of 2022.
I’m done apologizing for being too much or not enough
I’ve always been enough
I’m done apologizing for being crazy
I’m God’s creation of a perfect imperfection
I’m done apologizing for being too bland or too spicy
I’m a perfect blend of whatever I want to be
I’m done apologizing for being me!
I wrote this in January of 2022.
I’m at another one of life’s crossroads
trying not to make a turn for the worst
don’t stop but don’t go too fast
I want my momentum to last
I slow down and observe
and carefully ride life’s curves
and this time I really listen
and reach out to close friends
I’m not okay but I will be okay
soon I’ll find my way
I’m still grasping for a stable sense of self
and learning how to love and accept myself
I wrote this in January of 2022.
You must sit in silence
to breathe, to feel, to understand, to listen
everything else is just a distraction
from really feeling
Silence reminds us of the humanity
that lies within us and how
we’ll never have all of the answers
Silence reminds us that
our heart still beats
and we are Splendid creations of God
Silence reminds us that
the beauty is in enjoying
this present moment
while learning from the past
and looking forward to the future
I wrote this in January of 2022.
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
anger brings out passive aggressive social media post
sadness tells me I’m worthless
joy makes everything seem magical
numbness makes me want to end it all
hyper-sexuality makes me want to fuck almost everyone
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
I get paranoid, mad, sad, happy, and horny all in one day
My escapes used to be fucking and drinking
But I got older and wiser
And now I run and I write
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
And I learned to regulate and control them
I observe, I listen without judgment
and I honor my emotions
My emotions cloud and distort my reality
but now only for a short time
And I’m in control again
I’m no longer a mess of destruction and chaos
I wrote this in December of 2021.
I’m not meant to be loved behind closed doors
or only at night or kept as your little secret
I’m not meant to be the mistress, the side chick
or your on call whore
I’m not meant to be devoured at your convenience in 2 hour increments
I’m meant to be taken out in public in the daytime
and introduced to your family and friends
I’m meant to be part of your relationship status, your girlfriend,
your partner in crime
I’m meant to be paraded and exhibited everywhere
but most of all I’m meant to be loved out loud
This was my response to prompt #31: One word to describe your year
Growth was uncomfortable and made me want to crawl out of my skin
I had to acknowledge my own toxicity and take accountability
I stopped blaming my parents or exes for my sadness and angst
I held up a mirror to myself and recognized it was me holding myself back
I was the worst villain in my story and never the victim
I chose to turn this story around and confront my trauma head on,
write my demons out-embrace my self-imposed solitary confinement,
throw out my self invalidation, learn self compassion
In order to evolve into a person of value and worth
I let go of anything unhealthy and make sacrifices
by giving up my self-destructive vices
Growth could only happen in solitude and embracing radical honesty
This is in response to prompt #22:Something all people should know
stop allowing the world tell you who you should be
embrace who are with all of your imperfections
being “flawless ”is a lie sold to us by a consumerist society
who uses our insecurities for profit–
the countless anti aging creams catered to women of a certain age
even more weight loss shakes and gimmicks targeted at everyone
feeding us a false narrative that if we are skinnier or younger
we’ll somehow be an almost perfect ideal of human
be whoever you need be to fit your own brand of happy
everything else is bullshit
This was my response to prompt #24: Your Top Priority
I build the life of my dreams through discipline and hard work
while I appreciate everything I have at this moment
even the minor annoyances
and especially the moments of calm and silence
I’m no longer relegating myself to a side character
or a side chick or a passenger in my life
I’m writer, the master, the driver of the life I’m creating
I wrote this in December of 2021.
I was never the marrying kind
Don’t know why I forced myself into that line
Maybe because of society’s expectations
I made marriage my destination
But it wasn’t really who I ever was
Forever is not meant to be in my book of love
But still I tried for seven years
And by year 7, I ran into my biggest fear
I felt trapped in a cage of my own making
Happiness, contentment, and authenticity I was faking
But it was never truly me
Living this suburban reality
And one day I wanted to sleep forever
My mind collapsed from society’s pressure
to continue this facade of being the perfect wife
With my perfectly imperfect life
My authenticity I had to put aside
I’m a wife and mother of three
There’s no such thing as being free
But these were the lies I told myself
The critic in me I learned to quell
I learned I could be a mother but not a wife
My husband took our relationship’s demise in stride
There would no more anniversaries
We were done with self imposed forgeries
And a new chapter started with us
One full of laughter, friendship and familial love
This is my response to prompt #11: A goal you reached
Getting rid off my self imposed chains of insecurity and doubt
I no longer give any fucks-I no longer hold back
I announce my arrival when I drive, when I make love, and when I blog
I’m liberated from the chaos I used to cause
and have accepted sometimes an attention whore or an introvert
and it’s okay to swing between both
as long as I honor my truth and know my worth
This is my response to prompt #14: What did you think you’d be when you grew up
When I imagined my happily ever after-
it never looked like my current reality
a mother of 3 with 2 jobs, on the brink of divorce,
with 5 mental health diagnosis
and yet, I stand here with contentment in my heart
and appreciation for the life I’m living
I may not have grown up to live the life I envisioned
but I’m still proud of who I’ve become
Life on the BPD 