I wrote this in January of 2018 when me and my starter husband had opened up our relationship. The person “B” who inspired this poem was the first guy I was with after this transition. It’d be the first of unstable whateverships/relationships from that year that would restart this unhealthy pattern. This poem is also a perfect example of my black and white thinking. I idealized my husband and devalued the other person. I also felt guilt and shame sleeping with someone else who wasn’t my husband even though we were in an open relationship.
me in 2018 around the time I wrote this poem
I’m disappointed once again -being here with you You represent everything I thought I wanted But- You don’t compare to him You make my body sing with kisses but don’t sweep up the mess that I am You give me pleasure but can’t handle my pain You are there to fuck me but never to rescue me SO I choose him Who chooses to be there for me When I chase for death in a bathtub or a bottle Because while sex and lust feels good When it’s happening It doesn’t compare to the love and support he’s provided in keeping me alive So I say goodbye to a life Full of lust filled fantasies and accept the one and only who truly cares for me
In anticipation of the night I was excited to see you But then we met And the look you gave me said it all without saying anything at all I had warned you I had changed But you refused to believe it and held onto an idealistic image of me in your head Worthless small talk ensued Even though there was nothing left to say Your body language screamed: “Get the fuck away from me” But a small trickle of hope cemented my feet to the ground next to you And then a sorry excuse trickled from your lips And you left me stranded that night
I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was pregnant with my second child and mad at my boyfriend (future husband) for his lack of affection and attention to me. I was obviously very upset when I wrote this poem and instead of talking to him I wrote and bottled up my anger.
I wrote this poem in 2004 about my husband, then boyfriend. I guess I was mad about his lack of affection. As you can see, this is a pattern for me.I bottle my emotions up until one day I explode.
I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Maybe he tried to come back to be an FWB and I got mad and that’s what inspired this poem.
Never
Why do you continue to be such an asshole to me? With your pathetic games you make yourself look lame You expect me to sit around and wait for you whenever it’s fucking convenient for you but I guess this is my fault for letting us almost fuck So now I have to tell you something I will no longer be your fucking fling So start to forget that we ever met Go on your merry away and stay away for i am lot more than an on call whore
I wrote this 20 years ago on November 1st right before the great breakup of 2001. I wish I could say that I get over breakups quicker now but that would be a lie. After fights or breakups with partners, I seem to always go back to the girl I was in my teens and 20s. My brain is wired that way and I’ve accepted it. It’s something called age regression that shows up in people with Borderline Personality Disorder. Fear of abandonment is so severe that some of us will feel like we are literally dying after a breakup. Some of us will stop eating, some of us will sleep for days, some of will self harm or have suicidal ideation. With each breakup, I’ve noticed I’ve acquired healthier coping mechanisms. Nowadays, I’ve learned to listen more to what I need in order to heal than what doing what I used to do to escape the pain of heartbreak. My method now is cut off all contact with the ex, exercise, write a LOT and do loads of self care. I’m careful not to fall into any quick escapes from my feelings like going on tinder and trying to find someone new. Do I think I will ever get better at accepting a breakup like a normal person? I don’t know but I hope so.While I’m thankful for all of the inspiration and growth that comes from every breakup ;it’s also very overwhelming, exhausting and draining at times.
❤❤❤
You showed up unexpectedly in my life Like a pleasant surprise Calling and seeing me every day Making me dinner and leaving me roses on my dashboard I thought “finally, the one has come” Suddenly all of those nice things started becoming scarce The dinners, the roses, seeing me became non-existent Even talking to you on the phone has become too much of a bother of you I’m no fool, I know exactly where this doomed thing is headed Pretty soon you’ll give me some lame excuse As to why “we” can no longer be And my heart will shatter into pieces yet again There will be nothing left to say I’ll just realize once again You’re just like every other fool
I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Guess I was still mad at the rejection I felt when he ghosted me.
It’s like that sometimes
If I was nothing more Than another girl Why couldn’t you have been straight Instead of acting in an enamored way And made me really believe You truly care for me but I should have known all along that you’d be the same jerk song Hopefully one day I’ll learn to stop taking all you crooked turns
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way thatthey almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.
Often men want this girl…the ones that’s always down for a “good” timeBUT run away from this one….the other girl …the vulnerable one that has a realness hard to accept
I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.
2002 was such a rough year for love
I hate playing this stupid game Called dating Trying to decide Which move to make So you can have him at checkmate It’s no longer about falling in love Or even real feelings But it’s about winning So if sit here wanting to hear hisvoice I don’t dare give in to this yearning To want to call him Because then they’ll almost be winning
I wrote this in December of 2002 and it wasn’t inspired by any breakups, it might have been inspired by a movie I watched or a book I read.
it’s like that sometimes
I woke up one day To see that you had gone away All you left was a note You could no longer cope With our love mess You had tried your very best To be the man I wanted you to be The one who only cared for me You had only pretended to be true And now you say the time has come You’re sorry it took so damn long All that is left is goodbye You tell me to not even ask why You wish me the best in life One day I’ll make a great wife And with your signature you sign off I hope that someday you’ll find true love
Life on the BPD 