poetry: Pokemon cards

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me when I was collecting “pokemon cards”lol

once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
desperate for attention, desperate for love
desperate to cover myself up with another soul
once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
I didn’t have an identity, I didn’t have any self worth
I didn’t have any self love
Once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
to find validation in my existence
to use compliments to feed my ego
to lose myself in someone else
once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
I was undiagnosed with BPD
I was incredibly insecure
I was following the script prescribed to me
once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
and that was a long time ago
and now it’s been 3 years since I’ve been in a relationship
almost 2 years in my journey of celibacy
and 6 months since I’ve been declared officially single
once upon a time I collected lovers like Pokemon cards
and now I block anyone who tries to get near me
and want to vomit when I interact with my crush

poetry: pirate party

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

what that bad boy did to me

sultry July night at a pirate party
fiery red Dionysian hair, body made by Gods
caught his eye from a distance
he wanted her, he craved her, he wanted to fuck her
he approached her
right away she saw through his toxic fuck boi vibe
Said “no thanks”
and introduced him to me
I was already 3 drinks in, mesmerized by his body
Covered in tattoos from head to toe, his boyish smile
felt an electric energy between us (or maybe that was
the buzz from my third margarita)
he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, I WANT THIS BAD BOY!
within a few minutes, we assessed each other and flirted
he asked me for my phone number, giddy, I gave it to him
and that was the beginning of the end of me
and almost 6 years later, my friend still says,
“Sorry, I introduced you to him”

poetry: Kam Hwy

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me at 12 when I lived in the duplex

ramen 3 times a day in the dingy 2 bedroom duplex
and it was an upgrade from the miniature apartment
in mid city L.A
the one where there was a bullet hole in my window
so what if the stripper and the landlord’s son
got in screaming matches
so what if the marine next to us beat his wife
weekly for her infidelity
despite the poverty experienced, despite the trashy
and toxic domestic energy
that dingy duplex was freedom to me and my family
it was hope and salvation from the nightmare
of indentured servitude L.A had been

poetry: ruffles and pastels

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

always such a ham

mami dressed me up in ruffles and pastels whenever she could
I’d swirled and twirled in my dress until I got dizzy
loved when everyone told me, “ay que bonita te miras”
and I awkwardly bowed, smiled, and hid
sashayed to every single one of my relatives
and did the same thing
it’s one of the few times I remembered being vain as a child
one of the few times I didn’t feel weird and like an outcast
external validation learned at the tender age of 8

poesía: ira y furia

escribí este poema en Marzo de 2024.

yo y mi tacos contra El mundo

la ira y furia de mis antepasados femeninas viven en mi
ellas me visitan en sueños y me mandan mensajes
que cuentan sus historias, sus verdades aunque duelan,
aunque algunas me llamaran sádica y dramática
ellas me inquietan y me dicen
es tiempo de gritar todas las injusticias
y trastornos vividow
que nuestras muertes no han sido en vano
y aunque lloro y trato de ignorar la llamada de la sangre
es inevitable-fui escogida-
para sus venganzas, para sus historias de redención

poetry: UGA

this poem is inspired by the 2007 poem “small”

can’t blend in with this privileged world
wrong age, wrong last name, wrong ethnicity
I stand destined for failure
on this institutions steps
as the pressure to succeeds hang around me
like a noose around my neck
and yet I still keep going
and show up every day
if only to teach my kids a lesson
in how to keep going when you want to quit

poetry: girl in the mirror

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

empowered queen

for almost three years I’ve been waiting for the next guy to appear
as some kind of hero, as some kind of reward for all of my effort
I’ve put into myself and the life I’ve built
Subconsciously I did this
Even as I publicly roared about being empowered on my own
I still wanted someone to be my sanctuary to lay my love in
And I wrote, manifested, schemed, flirted
got obsessed with men were just meant to be friends
Thinking, gosh, if I hang on long enough, he’ll come around
this might work out
but today I discovered the only hero for me
is the woman in the mirror
who still manages to get out of bed
even on the bad days when she’s too tired to function
when she’s exhausted by all of it

poetry: sour

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

me in my irreverent crop top

any idea or notion of romance is lost to me
I’ve tried every which way to make myself appetizing
edible for men to take interest in me, love me
but the story always turns sour
and I’m tired of rejection followed by bouts
of tears and insanity
this spring I will not spend my energy
trying to manifest another fool I’ll get obsessed about
or get caught up in my head and daydreams
this spring I’m going to concentrate
only on my potential that’s yet to bloom
Focus of the world of creativity
that resides within waiting to get out

poetry: nails

this poem was inspired by the 2007 “dreams part 2”

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12305

for real

nail on the coffin on the future I wanted
no prince charming
no house with the white picket fence
instead I stare down at the barrel of poverty
trying to find a glimmer of who I used to be
among my many forgotten dreams