I wrote this in 2002 about my former friend Brad. He was the type of “friend” that kept trying to sleep with him and I tried to have boundaries with him. I guess I should have seen the red flags then.
My dear friend
Why do you want to stay with me tonight?
Is it because you’re lonely?
Or is it because you’re sad?
Or maybe you just crave the company of my warm body
Sorry but I can’t allow it
Because I’m selfish
And want to keep memories of you pure
and free of any sexual intimacy
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they 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.
Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy
Tell me I’m beautiful
Objectify me, fuck me,
Forget about me
And then
Try to come back to me
And when I deny
your lust filled request,
Put me down, threaten me
Try to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who treats me like a doll
to fuck at your convenience
You’re not the first
But will be the last
That tells me I’m not good enough
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry
Be persistent in your quest
In trying to get me in your bed
with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
Sorry to my past, my present, and
future lovers-
I am pass being the girl
that’s just used for fun-
I am pass being the lover
you never introduce to your mother
I’d rather live in a world
of solitude and calm
than to once again fall
into the objectification trap
Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John. Estaba tan decepcionada de el. Fue difícil dejarlo ir.
Yo tenía la esperanza
Que tu eras el hombre
Que yo tanto esperaba
Pero después de ver
la fea manera que me trataste
Ahora me doy cuenta
En realidad los que tu piensas
Que no mas fui
Cualquier otra para ti
No fui algo especial
Nunca te iba a importar
Y ahora me quedo sola
Y estas lagrimas
que se convierten en un mar
I wrote this poem in December of 2002 cause well dating sucks and it’s still timely. Haha.
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
Escribi este poema en Diciembre del 2002 porque estaba amarga y triste que los hombres siempre me tratan como un juguete.
Los hombres me miran
y yo sé que ven
Nada más que ese algo pasajero
Que nunca de amor se atrevería hablar
Pero ya me canse
De la manera que me ven
Porque yo soy más
que un cuerpo en sus camas
Porque yo tengo sentimientos
Y quisiera algo verdadero a mi lado
Porque ya no quiero ser
Nada más que una de sus muchas amantes
Porque algún día quisiera tener
Un verdadera hombre
Que me vea mas allá
Que una de sus muchas faldas
Y va a querer saber quien soy en realidad
Para empezar a amarme!
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.
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
I wrote this in December of 2002 after I had a one night stand with this dude I met in a bar and he didn’t tell me he was married. I found out a few days later when a coworker told me. I felt shame, guilt, and like a dirty whore for what happened even thought I knew that this time I was an unwilling homewrecker. It was rough.
This was a mistake
I wish I could unmake
I didn’t mean to kiss you
And I didn’t mean for us to screw
But the alcohol got to my head
That somehow led me to your bed
And now you have to understand
Our destiny has been written in the sand
You will never be the man I dream of
Who will deserve the best of my love
So now it’s about time
for you to open your eyes
What happened between you and I
Was chemistry I could no longer deny
So stop trying to interrupt my life
And just go back to your wife
I wrote this about John in 2002 when he ghosted me. I really liked him so I was really sad. Feelings of worthlessness came up and it was hard to not feel so shitty.
Our love has ended I know
There’s nothing more to say
To make you stay
We were too different, you said
I guess I was just too damn naive
To think someone like you
Could fall in love with an ordinary girl like me
Today is National Getting Over It day and I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate it than by sharing my ANGRY AF playlist. A huge part for me getting over something tragic in my life is to get angry. And when I get angry, it’s almost like a volcano eruption. This is actually pretty healthy for me because I’ve felt that at times, anger has saved me from feeling all of my sadness at once which for me can get really overwhelming right away. I can even say that Anger has probably saved me from spiraling into an abyss of sadness that would be hard to crawl out of. In other words, anger has helped me survive whatever trauma has come my way. I used to be so ashamed of being angry because of how it would turn me into the most self absorbed and reactive person. I don’t feel that way anymore because I’ve learned how to better manage my anger. Instead of drinking or hooking with random dudes because I’m angry; I exercise or write while I listen to music. Most of the songs in this list are geared more towards someone going through a breakup because that is when my anger comes out the most. Thanks, BPD. Lol. In bold are my favorite songs from this list.
For the Brokenhearted: I’m ANGRY AF Edition (the only where you scream out the lyrics):
Below are links to the playlist for your listening pleasure:
I wrote this about John in 2002 after he ghosted me after taking me to see his mom. His mother didn’t approve of me-an uneducated single mom. It was rough and of course I took it personally. So John fell off my pedestal and it was a long fall.
Perhaps you feel too smart
to let someone as ordinary as me
into your heart
Perhaps you think I’m not good enough
to be deserving of your love
Perhaps you are only sure
I’m just good for pleasure
Perhaps you wear a know it all smirk
And believe I’m just like any other girl
Perhaps you believe in your head
I’m only good to warm up your bed
But darling I’m sorry to say
You won’t get your way
Because I respect myself too much
To let myself melt with your touch
Because I am worth a lot more
than any of your trophy whores
Because I have an actual mind
Without you I’ll be just fine
But mostly because I would never fall
For someone so extremely false
I wrote this about Matt in 2002. He stopped contacting me after his visit in November and I was beyond pissed. So I did what I normally did after feeling rejected and abandoned, I devalued him to the point that he became dead to me.
You’ve become dead to me
That day, you decided to leave
And again decided to forget
Everything you had said
That you’d try your hardest
To give us your best
That you’d love to
Be there for us on cue
That we really are special
And pain on us wouldn’t befall
But once again, I was wrong
You sing the same deadbeat song
But thankfully, this time, I was prepared
For you to once again fail
So don’t ever come back
And pretend to be sad
Because you’ve become nothing to us
When once again, you left us in the dust
I wrote this poem on February 22, 2021. I wrote this while I still in a relationship with my most recent ex. I really thought he would be the one to stay but it wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. I look at year 39 that in spite of facing constant depression and craziness because of COVID, I still had something important in life and that was love even if at the end it didn’t work out. It was a year full of magical moments that I will never regret.
Last day of thirty nine
and I look back on this decade
with love and no regrets
The decade started with my third
miracle of life
and ended with the miracle of love
The decade started with a once stable
and normal suburban life
and ended with a chaotically busy and poly life
The decade started with a half loved marriage
and ended with an almost separation
Toxicity ruled 2 and a half years of the decade
but he left
Now I’m left with a new determination
to fulfill my potential and let no one
or nothing stop me
I wrote this on February 22, 2020. I had started working at Kroger in October of the previous year, was still trying to stop my situationship with “C”, and had just started dating my most recent ex-the second Andrew. I was becoming hyper aware of my unhealthy relationship patterns and didn’t want to repeat them and had my guard up but life happens and well I fell in love.
On the last day of 38
I’m filled with so much hate
Hate for the life I never had
Hate for me and my soon to be ex spouse
and for our toxic codependency
The year has been filled with highs and lows-
I was prolific with my poetry about my toxic lover
My toxic lover that follows
a pattern of toxic lovers
since the age of 15
Toxic lovers that abused me, used me,
and discarded me like trash-
Toxic lovers that made me
question my worth
Toxic lovers that left me breathless
with chemistry that felt like a drug
Toxic lovers that I kept coming back to
out of the habit of not loving myself enough
Toxic lovers that never want to define an “us”
Toxic lovers-that starting 2 weeks ago
I will leave forever alone
And on year 38
with all of my hate and rage
for my mediocre life
I decided to fight
Fight with determination and purpose
for the life me and my kids deserve
Fight with my body
working endless hours
with fatigue and sore knees
for the future I always wanted
A future that looks independent and thriving
on my own
A future that will become
my own universe who no one can enter
I may cry, I may want to die
but I will not give up-
not when I’m so close
And even though I met a ray of hope
with my first lover’s name
towards the end of year 38
My walls will stay up and guarded
No piece of my vulnerability
Will be exposed to him
until I’m sure it’s not the same old toxic codependent story
On the last day of thirty eight
I work on inner healing
I work on inner peace
I work on goals
to finally emerge as a butterfly on year 39
On the last day of 38
I say forever goodbye to toxic patterns and lovers
I say forever goodbye to the old insecure me
to welcome the new and confident me-
I say forever goodbye to my once comfortable
and mediocre life to welcome a universe
full of great potential–
I wrote this in October of 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. I had a lot of residual resentment for my son’s bio dad. Therapy would have helped with processing processing the trauma but at least I had poetry.
The thought of you never escapes my mind
not even for just one night
Your little game has caused me a lifetime of hurt,
resentment, and pain
Now I’ll never be the same
And I will forever ask myself
Why is it me and our innocent child
the ones to suffer for your thoughtless actions?
Him, without someone to call dad
and me,taken away from my youth
Forced to grow up too fast
I wrote this in 2002 about my oldest son’s father. I really wanted him to step up to be a dad to our son despite our turbulent past.
You make me think
to look past that fateful night of fucking
So I forced that memory to fade fast
Even when a baby was made
Cause you chose her over me
I had to assume it was fate
That there could neve be a “we”
Just forget about that night
And clean our slate white
And walk with him the father-son mile
Life on the BPD 