Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/03/poetry-pain/
me estoy hundiendo en mi tristeza
y nada o nadie lo puede para
empiezo a sentirme entumecida a mi vida
y ha nadie le importa
y quiero gritar pero no puedo
en cambio finjo sonrisas
y digo que todo está bien
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/27/poetry-she-stopped-waiting/
me dejaste sin advertencia
me entumeci a tu memoria
fuistes otro capitulo
que nunca más quiero abrir
y ahora me llamas
con mil disculpas y remordimientos
Y a mi no me importa
no soy la misma chica que tu conociste
no soy la ingenua que tu enamoraste
con mentiras
ahora conozco mi valor y mi magia
y no me menospreciare para dejarte
regresar a mi vida
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 on Valentine’s Day of 2022.
I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me
How does death change your perspective?
word press prompt of the day
lately I feel like I’m on borrowed time-
lately I feel like I’m not doing enough
and lately this fucks me up
so I over work, over exercise,
and over post
to make myself worthy of my existence
I want to make sure I’m leaving
some kind of imprint, some kind of legacy
behind that I’m remembered by
but it’s really me trying to please
the inner critic in me
who comes out when I’m most vulnerable
in my grief
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?
Here is the English Version that inspired this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/20/poetry-not-that-woman/
Sola, ella realiza su potencial
Sola, ella conoce su poder
Sola, ella entiende que siempre fue suficiente
y después de tantas desilusiones amorosas
ella está agotada y prefiere su soledad
que le da libertad y paz
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
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/26/poetry-why-dont-you/
porque no te armas de valor y le dices la verdad
en vez de correr de tus sentimientos con infidelidad y borracheras
estas haciendo dano a ti y a ella
pronto tu conciencia te devorara
no te estoy juzgando, estoy preocupado por ti
la gente está empezando con sus chismes
hasta piensan que soy la causa de ti infidelidad
y mientras me río de sus chismes
nuestra colega me contó la verdad
que ella es cómplice en tu infidelidad
y la mirada en su cara me dijo todo
ella está desesperadamente enamorada
esto es un juego de amor peligroso que estás jugando
donde tres personas se van a quemar
Escribi este poema en enero del 2022.
Iba en la maletera del carro
llena de las mentiras de mis padres
que toda estaría bien
y nos íbamos hacia la alegría
a un lugar misterioso y mágico
Iba en la maletera del carro
asustada y llorando lágrimas
mientras mi mami me abrazaba
me decía”cállate, pronto llegaremos a
nuestro destino”
Iba en la maletera del carro
y casi me sentía sofocada
pero mi mami me susurraba
“duérmete, casi llegamos”
Iba en la maletera del carro
y cuando salimos
el sol no sonrió
y fue el primer dia
en nuestra nueva patria
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/23/poetry-infatuation/
las mariposas que siento por ti
se convierten en poemas de amor
aunque nuestro amor nunca pueda ser
y tú perteneces a otra
tengo que reconocer
que eres el nuevo objeto de mi inspiración
que se está volviendo en una obsesión
Life on the BPD 