I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
that luminescent feeling in my heart
I glow from the inside out
about to burst from joy and excitement
a poet on stage singing songs
about heartbreak and finding love
it’s Conan Fucking Gray
it’s the happiest day of my life
I found hope once again
I wrote this poem in October of 2019.
There were parts of myself
I forgot when I was with you
I forgot my self worth
I forgot my dignity
I forgot my self confidence
I made the mistake
of placing my worth and happiness
in your unsure hands
I made the mistake
of giving you my heart
I made the mistake
of not knowing when to walk away
I made the mistake
in believing you would change
I made the mistake
of wasting my time and love
on you
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
Well, hello October
September came and went with a vengeance
and now I’m here about to make another transition
Waiting for another rebirth
trying to manifest a lover with dark hair and good intentions
because I’m done with them blue eyed colonizer devils
Well, hello October
I’ll try to manage my expectations for the soon
to be solar eclipse energy
for once, I just want to focus on me, me, me
and not get hung up on past love stories
instead I’ll try my best to find inspiration in the present
Where I’m planting and plotting many things
Well, hello October
please be kind to me
don’t disappoint me
I wrote this poem in October of 2019.
A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
as you dispose of me
once again
I hope this time I learn for good
that you only carry
destruction and devastation
within you
and that you will never love
or care for me
and that you’re a self absorbed
piece of shit
A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
And I hate you
but I hate myself even more
for wasting my time and love
on someone who never
deserved it
for trying to see love
and affection that was never there
for falling in love
with a charismatic coward
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Hold me close to you and lie to me
about how you’ll never leave
and how you don’t mind that I’m crazy
I need to hear it while things are good
I need to believe it while you love me
I know all too well how every single one of love stories
Soon enough turn into epic tragedies
that take me years to heal from
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
telling our stories, reading our poetry
building community
is the salve for humanity
let’s start another revolution of love
except this time without the drugs
this time let’s make something more inclusive,
more accepting of everyone
let’s keep the music, the frolicking in the fields,
the free spirits,
and let’s become a sanctuary for one another
if we do this, we’ll have a shot at breaking away
from the curse of violence that plagues this nation
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
to really love me, you have to know every part of me
and not just the parts I show you
but every single inch of my soul
it’s observing me when I’m quiet
or when I laugh in the most uncomfortable moments
to really love me, you have to learn about me
read my essays, my stories, my poetry
and understand what is not written between the lines
to really love me, you have to know not just what I like
but what I really loathe and why
to really love me, you have to accept everything about me
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
my emotional hangover drains me
and anxiety and insecurity sets in –
He makes my heart race-
He inspires poetry
He’ll be another tragic love story
I know he’s not a “finally”
He’s more of a “maybe”
maybe he’ll leave , maybe he won’t
I wonder how he’ll grow tire of me
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
there’s a love poem for me being written somewhere in the universe
and it will appear in the most unexpected way
it won’t be something forced, it won’t be something illicit or immoral
it will fit perfectly into my chaotic world of community and poetry
and while this man is bound to get on my nerves (like they all do)
He’ll be strong enough to withstand my nonsense and mood swings
He’ll be the lover daydream I’ve been waiting for since I was 15
and my kids with watch us and say “ew, cringe”
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Will your light illuminate the dark and negative thoughts I have about love?
or will you be another one who fill me up with more self doubt
and makes me feel worthless
Will you really mean it when you tell me you love me?
or will you leave the minute I lose my shit?
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
I welcome fall with open arms
looking forward to a new season
of changes
with the leaves changing colors,
cooler temperatures,
exhibiting the beauty of my curves
in sweater dresses
and everything halloween
I welcome fall with open arms
a season where much laughter is shared,
more poetry written,
and I’m filled with a brand new purpose
and determination to be better
I welcome fall with open arms
where I keep thriving in my solitude
and understand being single isn’t a curse
But a blessing instead
filled with freedom and love for myself
without owing anyone any explanations
for my actions or words
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
Your butterfly kisses trace the small of my back
and as I lose control with fiery desire
you take me in your arms
and drown me in your love
until I scream
and then mark me with you lips
to let the whole world know
about your passion for me
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
beast hurry up and come find me
it’s been a year since I’ve been married
two years since I had sex
and three years since I’ve been
in real relationship
I’m a thirsty and have a yearning
to break my vow of celibacy
I wrote this poem in September of 2024.
the sound of my love will not come with “I love yous”
or cute little texts with heart emojis
the sound of my love comes in loud waves of poetry
in the playlists I make dominated by Taylor Swift
and Conan Gray
the sound of my love is a lightning bolt
that will not be ignored
it’s me telling the audience
I hate being vulnerable but I cannot quell
the romantic girl in me
when she feels something and then reading
a love poem she wrote
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity
as I drink too much
as I search for someone’s touch
the moon sends the Goddess
with a message of awareness
and I wake up from my trance of self destruction
and start an inner healing revolution
my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified
it was my judgment gone awry
and I try respect and worth on for size
my beauty is not all there is to me
I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity
never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy
Life on the BPD 