I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I avoid the flutter of butterflies in my stomach at all costs
I don’t want to get lost and consumed by love
Some people call this avoidance cowardice,
Some people call this a trauma response
I call it keeping my sanity intact
and being more safe than sorry
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
after the thunderstorm came and went
I wrote a hundred poems about what happened
I didn’t know how to process it
and 1 hour in therapy didn’t cut it
the epic flood of grief that followed
and while it may seem excessive and melodramatic
It was either I kept writing
or I kept dreaming of dying
Write about your first crush.
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
we could have been friends but you ruined it
by crossing my boundaries
by showing your unhealthy attachment to me
saying you’ll wait for me to change my mind
acting like I’m a challenge to take on
seeing me as an objection of your affection,
a pretty girl to jack off to
so I was left with no choice but to block you
from my universe
if you can’t respect my “no” and listen to me
when I’m assertive about it
I’m sorry it’s not me, it’s definitely you
and you can no longer have access to me
maybe upon a time I thought I needed you
to validate me, to make me feel sexy
but now I see you were just a temporary fix
to give me confidence
and when I saw how unhealthy this was
I tried my best to be honest with you
let it be known that I’m not here for any sexual or romantic energy
but you didn’t take me seriously
and now we can’t even be friends
we are far better off as strangers
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
I never paid much attention to where I put my body
I never really cared as long as my sexual needs were met
as long it was called sexy
but this habit hurt me over and over again
Until one day I was trapped and couldn’t breathe
and I watched my body from afar being desecrated
by the person who claimed to love me
after that day-
I grew protective of my precious body
ran away from anyone who might hurt it
my body is too much of a masterpiece
for me to allow it to ever be
defiled and disrespected in the name of “love”
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I called you a villain in my book of lust and love
I never saw your humanity
I never understood how I played my part
in our chaotic and dysfunctional story of love
Instead it was easier to blame you over and over again
It was easier to play the victim
rather than try to accept you as the imperfect human that you are
Rather than to see how you never wanted a “we;
rather than to accept you just wanted someone sometimes
to not feel so lonely
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
you love me anxious,insecure, and a hot mess
and love to add fuel to my insecurities and fears
to keep me with you, to control me
and I try and try to break out of this toxic codependency
tied up in a box of good intentions
with your excuse that you know what’s best for me
when it’s holding me back from realizing my potential
from becoming the most powerful version of myself
it makes me wonder
did you ever really love me
or did you choose me on purpose to build up your ego?
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Our story needed to end and today feels like the definitive ending
You’ll never give me the consistency in love I need
And I’ll never birth the baby you wanted
We’re too different, we’re too alike
and I sarcastically and constantly ask myself “are we having fun yet”
Sometimes we did but most of the time I never understood where I stood
So block me and , forget me
You’ll never be enough for me and I’ll never be enough for you
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Got two hours of sleep last night
But I still woke up with excitement in my bones
Excited about a future without you
Excited that you’re really gone from my life
Because while I loved you and had many good times
You were never going to change, and neither was I
We were on the road to nowhere
And now that we’re forever apart
We’re on the road to somewhere
Somewhere that gives us space to grow
Somewhere without the pain and drama we caused each other
Somewhere that brings us the peace and love we need
to be authentic
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
today I’m being too hard on myself
always thinking about how I’m not doing enough
about how I’m not hustling enough
how there are still days when my anxiety
gets the best of me
I’ve tried my hardest to quell my inner critic
but it still visits me when I don’t have enough sleep
or when my inner winter is about to hit
and it points out all of my insecurities
and I try to hack my brain into being confident again
but all I can do is feel disgust and shame
as a new cycle of insanity hits
And if it’s bad enough I cry
or it kicks me in the gut and makes me sick
and my body says enough is enough
that’s when I finally listen to it-
rest, recharge, understand this is just one day
and not my whole life
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
Our children pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves
I noticed when my son’s heart broke for the first time
and it awakened a deep catharsis within me
I would no longer hold onto my victim story
the one where I tell myself,
“I’m worthless, I’m not good enough, I’m unlovable”
Instead I’ll walk with confidence and all of the self love
I can muster up for myself
maybe just maybe if I can model this type of healthy behavior
the cycle of generational self loathing and self destruction
will finally be broken
And my children has a chance of living a life
filled with more joy and contentment
than mental illness
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I finally killed the romantic in me
and I feel free and so happy
because me and love are a toxic and explosive combo
that makes me a terrible, crazy and delusional soul
because love always brings out the worst in
and right now, I need peace, I need calm
I need to find stability within
and I’ll never have that as long as I try to hold on to
the romantic in me
Goodbye to love
You never made me feel like I was enough
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
this didn’t come easily but I finally love myself to the moon and back
it was a hard process after so many years of self loathing
and drowning in my insecurities
I was my own worst enemy constantly focusing and scrutinizing
Every single one of my imperfections
Ugh, I’m too dumb or too fat or too old
Never did I see myself as a masterpiece of God’s making until this year
and now I’ve grown to love and accept every version of myself
because despite of all of my mistakes and flaws
I’m still worthy of all the love in the world
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
The sweetness of life has me on a euphoric high
where everything and everyone is wonderful
where nothing or noone can bring me down
And I feel like a goddess, a bad bitch, a Queen
I live for moments like this where happiness is my best friend
But then the sourness of life happens
and I’m brought down to a hell of depression and despair
Where I hate everything and everyone
Where everything weighs me down
and I’m losing my mind
And I feel worthless, crazy and like a selfish bitch
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
I want to scream, I want to cry
I want to throw myself off the precipice of some cliff
but faith whispers to me
“You will not always feel like this”
and slowly I begin to piece myself back together
and It’s hard at first because I don’t know where to start
Because so much in me is shattered and scattered
But somehow I know that faith is by my side
and hope will quickly follow
and I won’t always feel so lonely, so hopeless
