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Poetry: I Wish I Could

I wish I could’ve spent more time picking up a hobby than writing all of this salty poetry about this dude. LMAO. This is of course another poem inspired by the “great breakup of 2001”.

I wish I could
Forget all of you
And take back the time
Spent loving you
I wish I could make you see
All of the misery you caused me
I wish I could make you feel
My pain that is so extremely real
I wish I could see you hurting
It would be something I would take comfort in
I wish I could just not care
But life isn’t always fair

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Poetry: Thank You

I wrote this in 2001 about the great breakup. Looking back at this I almost BUT I’m glad that at the time I was resourceful enough to turn to write poetry instead of doing more self destructive things. My favorite phrase from my 20 year old self is “low scum ho”. Damn, I was salty. LMAO.

Thank you for letting me know
I was with some low scum ho
Thank you for making me see
He was just using you and me
Thank you for making me realize
My lover was just telling me lies
Thank you for driving me into this misery
I really thought he cared for only me
But most of all,
Thank you for taking this burden off me
he didn’t deserve someone as good as me

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Poetry: Big Lie

This is yet another poem inspired by the great breakup of 2001. Most likely, I wrote this poem right after it happened as I still raw processing what happened.

Big Lie

I was stubborn
and I got burned
by not believing
that you were deceiving
there were many signs
but my heart refused to resign
it didn’t want to conceive of the notion
that your love was a distortion
now I sit in disbelief
at how wrong you done me
I’m so much better off I know
even though it’s almost impossible to let you go
so it’s forever goodbye
to your twisted love that was a big lie

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Poetry: Unfair

This was another poem written in early 2001 about Paul. All I can say is that at least I didn’t go on to write more than a few poems about this breakup. I probably wrote this during the time we were attempting a “pseudo friendship”. I remember getting nauseated and sick every time after I got off the phone with him. This really was the last poem I wrote about him.

honestly how it felt like

Upset, angry, frustrated
Are some of the things I feel
When I come in contact with
Your miserable self

Depressed, miserable, pessimistic
is what I’ve become
You walked away

Happy, gleaming, glowing
is what you are
your miserable piece of scum

It’s unfair,unjust, not right
That fate led me to someone
Who would cause me so much raw pain

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Poetry: Excuses

This was another poem about Paul. The first guy that would break my heart via email. I still don’t understand what was so hard about picking up the phone. Then, again, I might be a hypocrite saying that. Lol.

Where is the lie tho?

I need to be alone right now
was your excuse
Never your intention to hurt me
Was what you said
I’m still in love with her
was what you meant
Meaningless piece of ass
was what I meant to you

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Poetry: So You

So I really needed therapy then. Hahaha. This is another salty poem from the great breakup of 2001.This poem is obviously directed at “S” ex-wife who let me know he was cheating on me. Thinking back on it now, I was pretty cruel to the poor girl on the phone. Any anger I had felt should been directed at him and not her. She was in the same situation I was in.

And that dynamite exploded

So you got my man
Thank you for getting him off my hands
So you think he loves you
It’s just a line to fuck you
So you think I still want him
I could care less about such a sorry thing
So you think you are meant to be
You are blind too, I see
So you think he’s the real deal
He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel
So you think you’re lucky
You got yourself another false story
So you think I’m saying this because I’m super pissed
Nah, I’m saying this cause you’re another girl on his growing list

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Poetry: Sea of Misery

I wrote this in 2001 about my ex Paul after he broke up with me via email after a couple of months dating. This is the last of the poems about Paul. Here is my blog post about my story with him:

https://rejectingstagnationafter.wordpress.com/?p=2052

Well, well, well
Here I am
Drowning in a sea of misery
Because of your selfish and miserable self

Thank you for all
the hell you have put me through

Glad I was used
As meaningless tool
To realize how much
Another meant to you

Nightmare of deceit, betrayal, and lies
was what was behind all of those dreamlike kisses,
Beautiful words and caresses

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Poetry: Dear Brad

I wrote this poem in 2002 about Brad, my former friend who lied to me for about a decade. Before I wrote this poem, we had met up maybe once and fooled around. After that, I tried to make it go back to a platonic friendship but he kept pressuring me for more.

I feel so fucking bad
My dear friend Brad
I know that you were displeased
I never meant for to think I was a tease
But I can no longer be that girl
That doesn’t know her worth
And is okay with being a “good lay”
Sorry for not being able to be your booty call
It’s just that I have learned
That if I want respect
I have to be firm
I hope you’ll forgive me and understand
And we can again be friends and hang

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Poetry: You’re Fired (*trigger warning*)

I wrote this about my ex Juan in the year 2000.Juan was an interesting character. I met him in October of 1999 while I was working at a gas station. We dated from October to December. He was either super charismatic or I was super dumb. We had fun. Since we lived with our parents, we had to be creative as to where we would have sex. I remember one time we had sex at work during my shift on my boss’ desk. Lol. However, Juan also conned me out of almost $3000 I had saved up saying his family needed the money. I hated myself afterwards. I also cheated on him with Sam. Anyways, Juan ghosted me in December and tried to come back sometime around January or February of the next year. I agreed to meet him because I was interested in getting my money back. Well, I got in his car and while he was driving around my neighborhood, he kept trying to put his hand in between my legs. I kept pushing him away, but he wouldn’t stop and kept getting more aggressive. Idk how but eventually I gathered my strength and anger and elbowed him in the crotch and managed to get out of the moving car. I never heard from him again. I should have been traumatized from that incident but I wasn’t. I think that while I was in the car with him, I was more pissed than scared of him. Looking back at this incident, it feels crazy that this didn’t affect me.

Me and Juan in November of 99
Not a lie…lol

My dear amor
How can I tell you?
That I no longer love you
How can I hurt you?
By saying that all of the extraordinary feeling I once felt
have gone and faded away from my heart and soul
It’s not that I’ve falling in love with someone new
It’s just that our special bond has been broken in two
When you use to kiss me I used to think I was in heaven
Now I just feel empty
So sorry to say, but baby you’re fired

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Poetry: Why Did You?

Another poem I wrote about the great breakup of 2001. Who knew that more than 20 years later, it would just be great blog content. Lol.

Ugh..this is me

Why did you have to be
so painful for me?
Why did it take me so long
To find out you were doing me so wrong
Why did you have to such a waste
And leave my mouth with such a bitter taste
Why did you have to put on such a good show
I still can’t believe somebody could stoop so low
Why did you have to make my heart so sore
I don’t think i can stand the pain anymore
Why did you have to show up
And be such a damn fuck up

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Poesia: Yo Pense

Este poema lo escribi en Noviembre del 2001. Estaba bien amarga.

Yo pensé

Que mi amor no tenía limite

Que nada podía pasar

Pero arruinaste aquella confianza

Al seguir esa falda

Yo pensé

Que nada podía destrozar aquella fe

Que el amor era sin condiciones

Pero no sabía de tus misiones secretas

Cuando te ibas con esa

Ahora has roto nuestra fortaleza

Yo pensé 

Que tu podías ser aquel

Que sería la solución 

Nunca la destrucción (de mi corazón) 

Pero tú no lo viste así

Por eso ya no sigues aquí

Yo pensé 

Que eras un hombre

Nunca que eras ese niño confundido

Y que volverías a aquel anterior nido

Ahora veo que tú fuiste mi gran equivocación 

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Poetry: Hell Sent

I wrote this in November of 2001 about the great breakup of that year. I was quite salty. Hey, at least I didn’t go Joe Goldberg on his ass. Lmao. Sometimes as a way to process trauma, I will write letters to the people that have hurt me. This is an example of one of them.

I feel like this same story has repeated in my life over and over again

My heart knew you were no good
Something told it you were not being true
All those days you were out there “working”
You had been out there fucking
I should’ve known to walk away
The first time your lying ways gave you away
But I wanted so badly to believe
That you were truly in love with me
Now I’m a big mess
But I deserve this I guess
For not listening to myself
And falling in love with your sorry self
I’m glad we’ve reached the end
Cause baby you were hell sent

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Reflection: Endnotes

I wrote this in 2000 about Sam. He was my FWB for over year and of course I developed feelings for him. I also felt guilt and shame because I was the “other woman” during that entire time. I also kept sleeping with him even though I was suppose to be a few “monogamous” relationships during that time. Maybe that’s why I have trust issues. I know how shitty and dishonest people can be because I’ve been shitty and dishonest myself. I also have this habit for falling for people I have no business falling for.

My friend Sam
I like having you as my special friend
I like it when we get together
and we have wild and crazy sex
You make me feel better than when I’m with him
I suppose that it’s because it’s just sex
The more I’m with you, the more i look into that beautiful ocean
I call your eyes, the more I hear the achy familiar sound of your voice when you answer the phone,the more tender kisses you give me all over, I’m falling in a dangerous
Situation here, the lust that I’m suppose to be feeling for you is now falling into this deeper emotion called love
I’m sorry, I know it wasn’t supposed to happen
I know that you belong to another and I know she’s the one you love
and to you I’m nothing more than a warm body to warm you up at your convenience
This is why I have to leave you my special friend Sam
I can’t stand hearing your heys of feeling your tender kisses all over my body and just tonight I’m all yours but tomorrow forget I ever existed in your life
With this my friend
I say goodbye and I hope you live happily ever after with the love of your life

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Poetry: Fun is Gone

I wrote this in 1998 about my pregnancy. I wrote this after telling my traditional and catholic parents I was pregnant. I was six months along and went into a deep depression afterwards that lasted maybe a year after the birth of my first child. Yes, I was a teen mom with post partum depression and there wasn’t much anyone could do at the time. I still got up to go to school and took care of my child. My life was no longer just about me, I was responsible for another life. Maybe that’s when I learned to mask so well. I learned to show up no matter what. On the upside, I had really supportive parents who were for me when they could have abandoned me. On the downside, some of my closest friends did. Sometimes I wonder if going through something this traumatic did stunted my maturity in some areas.

me at 17 around the time I wrote this poem

No more fun
No more just “lying in the sun”
Dirty diapers and Barney
Will sum up the next few years for me
No more hanging out with friends
No more having tons of boyfriends
Strollers and snotty noses
Will be how my adolescence closes

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Poetry: Miserable Memories

I wrote this in 2002 after a trip to California. That trip was strange for me. I was filled with nostalgia but also felt triggered by revisiting traumatic parts of my childhood during that trip. I did make peace with my past during that trip. I don’t talk much about my childhood because of the trauma attached to it but I think I need to. We should talk about the things that are hard to talk about. I believe that my childhood trauma played a big part in me having BPD.

The 2 bedroom apt I grew up in from ages 5 to 11
My aunt, me and my grandmother during that trip. My aunt was not a nice lady BUT thats another blog post .

Gone back to my old miserable childhood world
Everything has changed and yet remains the same
Old memories I had buried in the back of my mind
Come crawling back to the surface
Of the pain, poverty, and misery
That scared little girl emerges once again
But this time as a brave woman
To proclaim that she is no longer
Frightened by the people who caused her so much hurt