I used to live in a world full of regret, sorrow, and resentment
until I no longer wanted to live in misery
so I let go of everything and everyone that didn’t serve me
and held onto everything and everyone who helped me grow
and now I’ve blossomed with love, with purpose and for once
I’m full of happiness, calm, and serenity
And I finally feel free to love my life,
to love who I’ve become
I wrote this in July of 2022.
Morning rain makes me want to lay longer in bed
and listen to music and cry
cry about everything that could have been
but instead I get up and start my day
even try to get excited about it
because if I give in to my depression
for even one day
my inner critic wins
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I cloak myself in compassion and empathy with family and friends
but when it comes to myself-
I criticize and judge and tell myself I’m not worth it
But it’s time to turn this narrative around
I’m done, done, done
with being a self-loathing clown
and using self-deprecating humor doesn’t help me
it hinders my creativity and stops me
from unlocking the potential within
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
love is a magnet for my insanity
love is a magnet for feeling worthless
love is magnet for everything wrong in me
so I locked the door to my heart with a padlock
and threw away the key
I can’t trust myself again to risk my vulnerability
This is a poem I wrote in July. I was angry when I wrote it. Lol.
celebrating a country that rips babies apart from their parents
and takes away rights from the marginalized
and makes anyone who’s not white and christian feel unwelcome
feels like the cruelest irony
it’s celebrating genocide, racism, prejudice, xenophobia, and white supremacy
it’s celebrating everything atrocious and wrong about this country
it almost feels like a personal violation of my beliefs
to celebrate the hypocrisy of this country
founded on genocide and slavery
who claims liberty and justice for all
but “all” is really white, christian and male
so I’m passing on this year’s 4th of July celebrations
because except for a small portion of Americans
no one can claim true freedom
or independence in this American Land
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
Delusion is believing this time it will be different ,it’s believing he’s not like the others and really gets you
It’s believing him when he tells you he loves you
when you know how this story always ends
Everything will be fine until one day it’s not
and within a few days
You go from lovers to strangers
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Pretending
¿Te haces el idiota o en serio estas ciego?
regresando a mi vida con un aire de indiferencia
como que aqui no paso nada
como que no me jodiste la vida
y te atreves a extenderme tu mano
como si fuéramos amigos
como si el tiempo mi hiciera olvidar el infierno de tu abandono
y como me dejaste solita para enfrentar las consecuencias
de nuestra irresponsabilidad
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The cure for a broken soul is finding love and validation
within yourself
It’s finding beauty in the ordinary
It’s finding joy in the mundane moments of life
The cure for a broken soul is finding faith and hope
in the most trying of times
and accepting the darkness within you is temporary
and not everything deserves your energy
The cure for a broken soul is acceptance and love
from the universe, the source and God
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Maybe One Day
Quizás tu no eres el hombre para mi
pero a lo mejor eres un vistazo de amor anticipado-
un amor que sepa manejarme sin controlarme
un amor que sepa apreciarme sin idolatrándome
un amor que sepa amarme sin mentiras
un amor de verdad
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m making amends with lovers and friends who’ve hurt me
holding this much resentment in feels heavy
And I’m tired of being a slave to past grudges
it feels like an eternal emotional blockage
So I’m filled with empathy and forgiveness
For those who’ve made me feel worthless
Because enough is really enough
and I’m tired of being fueled by hate
I wanna now be fueled by love
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The volcano that lived inside of me
is ready to erupt and about to ruin everything
my explosive anger cannot be reigned in
this intensity is a consequence of my BPD
and it will cause my lover to flee
the lava of me will make him wary
and once again, I’m left
in the desolate land of lonely
wishing away the volcano inside of me
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Feeling the fatigue of life makes me want lay down
in an endless sleep-
Some people call it suicidal ideation
I call it relief from grief-
But that’s when I use all of my coping skills
write sad poetry, or write a gratitude list
or just allow myself to feel everything
I’m trying to escape from
and constantly remind myself feelings like this
are always temporary
and tomorrow could bring new and exciting things to see
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m not made for polyamory or maybe even monogamy
I”m a complete disaster when it comes to love, well, romantic love
but I’m great at other kinds of love
Loving my children, adoring my friends, worshiping my parents
and of course filling myself with self love
but still I wonder if somewhere in this big wide world
exist an almost ideal lover
who’ll bring out my best and love me at my worse
who won’t put me on a pedestal
and doesn’t scare easily and leave
when he sees all of me
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Is this a new kind of avoidance?
Blocking and escaping any new love possibility-
or maybe I finally understand
How much I value my solitude
Maybe I’m finally enjoying an inner peace and calm
that comes with being alone
Maybe I’ve finally learning I really am enough on my own
Here is the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Reclaiming Myself
cuando me abandonaste la primera vez
quería acabar con mi vida,pensaba que no valía nada
y casi me tire del puente pero un susurro de fe me detuvo
y ahora vienes con disculpas y buenas intenciones
querias pagar las deudas de tu conciencia
pero querido, ya es demasiado tarde
esta vez no me vas a convencer
porque ahora soy un mujer valiente y astuta
que nunca más creerá en tu palabras bonitas y falsas
que ya no es un cordera apta para que tu las mates
Life on the BPD 