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Poetry: A Note

I wrote this in 2002 about Lucas after he dropped me off at home. I really thought we had this special and unique connection at the time even though the situation was so fucked up.

maybe

He drops her off and waits for her to inside
opens the glove compartment
and picks up the note
she leaves for him
He feels ecstatic and miserable
at the same time
by her simple way with words
It’s not so much the content
It’s the meaning behind it
He wants to stop and love her
but he can’t
He realizes she leaves that note
as a reminder that she will
always love him

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Poetry: Cherish

I wrote this in early 2002 about my married coworker Lucas. I remember going out to lunch with him one day and writing this poem about it the next day.

yeah, it felt that intense

As I look upon him with my dopey love eyes
I wonder how he would feel next to me
at this exact moment
As we are listening to this song
and looking at each other at this very moment
I wonder what his exact feelings are
Maybe it’s something I can never know
or feel for sure
but this moment with him
is something I can forever cherish

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Poesía: Cobardía

 Escribí este poema en 2002 acerca de Lucas. Estaba bien amarga y llena de amargura porque él nunca quiso dejar a su esposa. Mis pensamientos eran irracional e ilógico. Esto pasa cuando uno tiene trastorno límite de la personalidad.

pero el me olvido como los otros

El romance paro
gracias a tu cobardía
Nunca quisistes pelear
Por aquel amor que me decias
Que te hacía querer vivir la vida
Y yo me quedo aquí
Sola y desilusionada
Y tu
Con el viejo hábito
Que se llama “tu esposa”

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Poetry: I Wish

I wrote this in April of 2002 when I was depressed AF. I wrote this because I was in a toxic work environment where I was discriminated against, disrespected, and at one point even slut shamed. We could say by today’s standards that I was bullied to the extent that getting up every morning for this job was really hard. I was tired of it when I wrote this poem. I’ll tell the story of this toxic job in another blog post.

resilience should be my middle name

I wish I could throw up
everything ugly in my life
and only enjoy the beautiful
Perhaps tell the put me down people
to fuck off
Or stop their pathetic attempts
to change me into their idea
of what I should be
And stop getting talked into what
they think is best for me

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Poetry: Precious Moments

I wrote this in 2002 about my ex Andrew whom I dated briefly in 1997/1998. Well, we’ll call him the first Andrew because I love to recycle names. Lol. I had a tendency to get nostalgic about because the love and infatuation I felt for him was really, really intense. Also, our story was kind of crazy in its own right but that’s another blogpost. I’ll just say that I idealize him and placed him on a pedestal for many, many years after we broke up.

so true

I think of you tonight
More than I do on most nights
Listening to this melancholic song
Brings back all of those precious moments
With you in my mind
When we were each other’s whole world
And nothing or no one else
mattered except you and I
And I wonder if I ever run through
that beautiful mind of yours
Or if I ever reached your heart
if even for the briefest moment

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Poetry: To My Baby Daddy

I wrote this in 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. It kind of sucks that this situation happened BUT at least I got some salty poetry out of it. Lol.

triggered

Hey Mr.Donor man
How does it feel to have your son
Learn you never wanted to come
That you talked big shit
and never meant any of it
That no matter how hard I tried for him
you never wanted to be a daddy to him
That you were so fucking lame
You couldn’t even give him your last name
That to you, his mom
was just good fun
That you’re a fucking coward
you never dared to be his father
Don’t worry though
He’ll always have my love
And without you, he’ll be just fine
One day I’ll meet a man who is kind
Who will love him and I
and will want us in his life
Who’ll be glad to take the place of
The man who couldn’t give us love
Who will come to his defense
when things get tense
Who will stick around
And won’t bring him down
Who will finally be
The dad you never wanted to be

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Poetry: Three Years Too Late

I wrote this poem about my oldest son’s bio dad in February of 2002. A lot of residual resentment I had towards him was because he wouldn’t step up. My empathy button for him was really broken for him and in this case maybe it needed to be.

it be like that sometimes

Three years too late
You’ve decided to embrace your fate
You’ve decided to recognize your mistake
And fill my ears with apologies
For not accepting mine and his existence

So now you feel like playing dad
And expect me to forgive and forget
about the misery you left us in
The years of being a fucking deadbeat to him
Please do what you do best
Walk away and put this situation to rest
For he doesn’t need
A false wannabe daddy
Who will cause him harm
in the long run

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Poetry: She Stopped Waiting

I wrote this about my first baby daddy in February of 2002 when he contacted me. At the time that we talked, he told me that he wish I would have told him earlier about pregnancy because he would have married me instead of his wife. It honestly made me mad so I sat down and wrote this poem.

So accurate

You left her without a warning
Couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye
Now you’ve come back
Wanting to stake a claim
On what was once yours
Thinking she will gladly accept you
in a welcoming embrace
Sorry to tell you
But she stopped waiting for your return
a few years ago
You taught her not to need you, not to miss you
She moved on and left you in her mind
as a bittersweet memory
And that’s how she now sees you

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Poetry: Why Don’t You?

I wrote this about Lucas in 2002 because I found he was having an affair with one of my coworkers and I was seriously jealous and also judging him. This is a good example of my BPD and how I can go idealizing someone to devaluing someone in an extremely short amount of time.

If only my 20 year old self knew this back then

Why don’t you just end it?
Instead of running away from it
Into another’s arms
Your wife doesn’t see the cheating alarm
You only make yourself look worse
By acting like a cheating whore
I’m not exactly judging you
But if the tables were turned on you
Would you like it too?
Being lied too and betrayed
By the one you thought was heaven made
I will warn you to be careful
Because of that small karma rule

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Poetry: Infatuation

I wrote this in January of 2002 about my married coworker Damon. When I have a crush on someone, I kind of use to get obsessed about them. It’s borderline Joe Goldberg vibes. Lol. I can’t tell if it was me having BPD or me being a normal 20 year old.

that’s how I felt

So I look at you
with my droopy lovesick eyes
And talk to you with my schoolgirl crush voice
Because that’s all I can ever do
It can never go further than that
Because you’re married to another
And that’s something I’m obligated to respect
The only thing left for me to do
is to stay away from you
maybe then my obsession
Will slowly disappear

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Poetry: Thanks to You

I wrote this in February 2002 about my first baby daddy. He had started to be in contact with when he got the child support order. I obviously had a lot of residual resentment and trauma and blamed him for losing part of adolescence.

monsters that leave you with trauma

She was the girl you left behind
with nothing but a baby
and a desperate hope to keep her alive

She was innocent, naive, and untouched
until the night she fell into your sexy scent,
your empowering embrace, and a world full of promises
She trusted, believed, and dreamed

Thanks to your unexpected departure
that naive girl you left behind
blossomed into a woman of depth, strength and wisdom
beyond her 21 years
She will lust but she can’t ever love
She wants to trust but finds herself full of doubt
She wishes to fill herself with guilt and morals
but has learned to have no scruples

So don’t try to come back and expect her
to believe in your crocodile tears
or your most insincere apologies
that girl you left behind
Grew up into a woman
at a surreal speed thanks to you

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Poetry: Mr. New Guy

I wrote this in early January 2002 about some random dude I was talking to online. I never met the dude that inspired this poem.

sometimes I’m both

So you want to meet soon?
I wonder why
You say because I sound
Sexy and great
But should I take another chance
And end up with another
horrible waste of a man
who will regard me
as just another good fuck
Or maybe I’m being too cynical
And you for once will be
Mr.Right
What I know is that
I couldn’t stand again being a fad

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Poetry: Without a Goodbye

I wrote this poem in 2001. I think that this poem was inspired by seeing what one of my family members was going through during their separation.

life is strange

Walking through this house
so full in every single room
are memories of you
the living room where
you held me
the kitchen where we dined
the bedroom we made love
kind of hard to imagine
all that is left,
are pictures of you
in my mind
but I have to accept that
this house will be
empty and cold
just like my heart
since you left
without saying goodbye

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Poetry: Confession

I wrote this in January of 2002 after I met my married coworker Lucas to who I became attracted to . I think I had just known him for a week but right away I became infatuated with him.

sometimes you can’t help who you’re attracted to

What am I doing?
Longing and yearning
For something that so obviously
not meant to be
What am I doing?
Hoping and wishing
that you’ll leave her soon
so you’ll be my love king
What am I doing?
Allowing to lose myself
Driving me to confess
That there’s something I feel
Maybe this time it’s for real

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Poetry: A Liberal Kind of Love

I wrote this in September of 2001, I guess I was frustrated with dating because it sucked getting stuck in relationships I had no business being in. Half the time, I did it to not be lonely but then I found myself miserable.

the magic is in you

A Liberal Kind of Love 

Holding hands and kisses
on the cheeks is
what we are no longer about

Hot and sweaty bodies
fucking with a goodbye
note in the morning
is now our nature

Respect, honesty, and trust
are long forgotten words

Deception, disillusionments and selfishness
are now our sacred words