Poetry: soft again

I wrote this poem in March of 2022

me around the time I wrote this poem…

I want to be soft again and fall in love
without thinking
that feels like a special kind of freedom
to share the burdens with someone
to share the laughter with someone
to share a unique kind of love with someone
but my heart is locked under a fortress
and I refuse to let anyone in
because in all honesty I don’t think
I could stand the pain again
when another lover leave suddenly
and I’m left again with the shards of my heart
to put them back together and carry on

Poetry: The Writer’s Fight

I wrote this poem in February 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

To write is to fight
words that cuts like swords
How do I stop this torture?
of suppressing a petty light

Pen stabs paper with might
about past regrets and lost love wars
and memories best left ignored
of a dreadful and chaotic life

To write is to fight
Demons I want to hide from
But I can’t help but succumb
to my constant inner fight

Pen stabs paper with might
and I try to find closure
about past lovers
I write from love and spite

To write is to fight
Do I really need to say that?
Yes,it’s my trauma to unpack
and my words take flight

Poetry: Third Party

Aqui esta la version en espanol de este poema:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/24/poesia-que-espera/

I can’t wait around for you to choose me
I’m losing sleeping with dread and anxiety
imagining you loving her
I think this needs to end soon before I lose it
I’m not made to be the β€œother”woman
I’m not meant to be a third party
in anyone’s love story

Poetry: The Gift of Solitude

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me in February of 2022

My solitude comforts me and completes me
this much tranquility is a gift
I thought being alone meant wearing a misery crown
Instead I found serenity and calm
I found a love I thought was impossible
self compassion and self love fill the void within
to care only for myself is a blessing
And I need to stay like this for a while
anything else feels too draining
being alone feels like the ultimate prize
in this beautiful thing called life

PoesΓ­a: Por fin

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/15/poetry-finally/

Por fin me cogi al hombre casado
fue agradable, fue placentero
fue maravilloso
fue un paraΓ­so lleno de Γ©xtasis
fue sucio,fue vergonzoso
fue terrible
fue un infierno lleno de culpabilidad

Poetry: Last Day of 40

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me on the last day of 40

Last day of 40 and it feels like the longest year of my life
My 4th decade started with the miracle of what I thought was true love
But nope-it was another story of disillusionment and loss
growth and progress became the theme in my 40th year
I beat a 15 year driving phobia and made art from heartbreak and trauma
and I’m no longer scared to live my truth out loud
with my family, friends, and my online community
I also learned I was enough and complete by myself
and never needed someone to validate my existence
And as year 40 closes,I’m amazed by my creativity and resilience
and how time and time again I turn my trauma and grief
into the ultimate comeback story
For year 41,I hope to continue to thrive with calm and tranquility
and enjoy the magic I found within

PoesΓ­a: Rabia

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/04/poetry-i-wish/

estoy cansada de tragarme las opiniones de otra personas
que piensan que ellos me conocen a mi mejor de que yo me conozco
Asentir de acuerdo que ellos saben lo que en mejor para mi
pero cuando me defiendo
me acusan de ser otra Latina ardiente y furiosa
entonces sigo tragΓ‘ndome su palabras hirientes e ignorantas
que me hacen sentir pequeΓ±a y como una estΓΊpida
mientras me quemo adentro con una rabia grande e intensa

Poetry: A Knock on My Door

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

this kid makes my dark days worth living

When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living

Poetry: Existing

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Existing was this never ending sorrow
Existing was a β€œwhat the point of it all” status
Existing was a horrible and exhausting nightmare
I couldn’t want to wake up from
But now..
Existing is welcoming the excitement of the morning sun
Existing is looking forward to my next chapter
Existing is a hopeful and lovely dream
I’m currently living in

Poetry: Scenes of Dissociation

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

share your story

I fantasize about death after my boyfriend’s rejection
I’m so out of touch with reality, a car stops inches away from me
the driver honks at me and cusses me out
I am 15

I want to throw myself of the bridge on the way
to confirm I’m my parent’s worst failure
but a kick inside me saves me
I am 17

I want my baby to stop crying, my head is starting to spin
with psychosis and I hold him a little too tight
until my husband takes him from away me
I am 30

I’m crying while spewing nonsense
while my lover looks at me in horror and disgust
I know it’s over
I am 40