I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
old trauma wounds swim up to the surface
Triggered by a thoughtless comment
a dismissive action
and I speak up this time instead of holding it in
But I’m ignored
as if my hurt feelings mean nothing
But this time, instead of letting it go
and going with the flow
I reciprocate the same dismissive energy
because the version of me
Who’d allow herself to be run over
just to be accepted no longer exists
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
Old insecurities come to visit me again,
they shake up my newly acquired confidence
they tell me I’m not smart enough and I’ll never be truly loved
They tell the only thing I have going for me is how sexy I can be
Otherwise I’m a waste of a person because of my bpd
And I try to shut it all down and not once again drown
Because I have made so much progress and have come so far
Only to once again fight an anxiety and depression war
but it’s daunting not to let the negativity get to me
So here I go once again trying to calm down my brain
from intense and intrusive thoughts by covering myself with self love
I wrote this in May of 2022.
What’s the cost of being authentically me?
not everyone will like me, lovers will run away from me
I have a hard time finding someone who accepts me
but it’s fine, it’s okay
my worth means more to me than anyone
who wants me to swallow parts of myself
to accommodate to them
because my self-esteem means more than acting
like someone else’s dream
so maybe the cost of being truly me is low
compared to the parts of my true self
I would lose for false friendships and false loves
aqui esta versión en Español:
poesÃa: loba
I’m a lone brunette wolf in a world full of blonde sheep
my exes always preferred blondes over me
I never knew exactly why
perhaps blondes really do have more fun
perhaps blondes are easier to manipulate
this used to bother me greatly,
even robbed me of my sanity and sleep
but eventually I had a great epiphany
the one meant for me will not just love how sweet I can be
He’ll also love and encourage the savage in me
he’ll know how to ride the turbulent waves of my mood swings
I’m not sure if I’ll meet him soon or if he even exists
but after this grand epiphany
I no longer care about my exes and their blonde sheep
In fact, I wish them all the best fairytale ending
I wrote this poem in april of 2023.
my poetry has never been to get attention, likes, comments, validation
and while I appreciate all those things
I have to be honest –
my poetry is and will always be for me to speak my truth,
to process my feelings, to heal from life’s tragedies
to understand myself and learn to love myself as I am
my poetry is the ultimate love letter to myself and the universe
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
by the fireside I fall in love again and this time I’m sure
because before I met him I knew I was enough
before I met him I knew I was complete
before he was even a thought in my mind
he knew all about me
before I knew anything about him
he’s read my poetry
and nothing I’ve written scares him
to him I’m more than a pretty girl
to him I’m more than my diagnosis
to him I’m more than my chaotic past
because unlike the others, he sees my humanity
he sees my perseverance and resilience
and to him, I’ve become his everything
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I overthink, I overthink and I overthink
and my head hurts from so much anxiety
Society puts so much pressure on me
to be nice, to be pretty
to be kind, to be smart
the stress is tearing me apart
but slowly I start to breathe
and the pressure starts to decrease
I change the narrative
And stop with listening to my inner critic
Fuck societal expectations
so what if I’m an aberration
the only person who determines my identity
is me
not you, not him,not my parents
and not society
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I love to play the game of love recklessly
gambling with my sanity, gambling with my worth
gambling with my self-esteem
losing every single time
But I love love
So I’ll repeat this insanity until self-love is enough
I wrote this poem in april of 2023.
as I hug the tree, I feel the gentleness
of this most magnificent masterpiece of oak
it’s a reminder of God’s love
for my wretched soul
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
hope appears in the leaves dancing on an almost spring day
and I sit in stillness and silence wondering what it means
Admiring the splendor of nature before me
understanding how beauty is found in the ordinary
I wrote this poem in March of 2022.
He came into my life on a cold february night-
He decided to make a dramatic entrance
on my 24th birthday
He didn’t mean to steal my thunder as he tried
to make his entrance-a month beforehand
But fortunately the doctors stopped
his almost too sudden arrival
But that cold February night-
was the right time for him
I wanted to go the natural route
but he had other plans with the horrible pain he caused
EPIDURAL PLEASE-LIKE RIGHT NOW
OR I DON’T KNOW HOW I’M GETTING
THIS CHILD OUT
Within minutes he was out and once again
I was in love but this time with the life I created
Life on the BPD 