Poetry: Racing Thoughts

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

What do I do with a mind that wonโ€™t quit?
It keeps me on this never ending guilt trip
These racing thoughts keep me up at night
And tell me write, write, write
And I want it all to stop the overflowing inspiration
from my muse cup
But this is who I am
and forever will be
a bipolar and BPD me
trying hard to deal with existing

Uncomfortable

Describe the last difficult “goodbye” you said.

in order to grow, we must lose parts of ourselves that hold us back from reaching our potential

saying goodbye to the version of me I used to be was uncomfortable and agonizing
even as I lost her in parts
first came the extra pounds and inches I ran off from the curvy girl who used food as comfort
and for a while a stranger stared at me from the mirror as I wondered where my cleavage went
or how my waistline got so small
then came the spectator and the passenger I lost as I gained confidence and power in sharing my truth, in sharing my art and I became the main character and the driver of my own life
finally I lost the princess who held onto others for safety, who relied on others for acceptance and love-she left on a windy October day when she conquered a phobia that haunted her for 15 years
saying goodbye to the version of me I used to be was uncomfortable and agonizing
but she couldnโ€™t stay around if I wanted to grow, to evolve, to become the mother my children
always deserved, to become the woman I always wanted to be

Poesรญa: Posponer Nuestro Fin

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2023/01/09/poetry-silence-3/

me acuesto junto a ti en un silencio severo
Pospongo y pospongo
lo que tengo que decirte
y siento la culpa en mi estomago
y quiero sentir alivio de esto
pero como te confieso mi infidelidad
sin destruir tu alma
โ€œte amo pero me acostรฉ con alguien,
nunca fue mi intenciรณn herirteโ€
todo suena tan estupido
y la cobardรญa me consume
no quiero leer la devastaciรณn en tu cara
al confesarme
mejor esperare
quizรกs te mandarรฉ un correo electrรณnic

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 canโ€™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,itโ€™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 canโ€™t wait around for you to choose me
Iโ€™m losing sleeping with dread and anxiety
imagining you loving her
I think this needs to end soon before I lose it
Iโ€™m not made to be the โ€œotherโ€woman
Iโ€™m not meant to be a third party
in anyoneโ€™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

Poesรญa: 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 paraรญso lleno de รฉxtasis
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 Iโ€™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,Iโ€™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

Poesรญa: 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 tragรกndome su palabras hirientes e ignorantas
que me hacen sentir pequeรฑa y como una estรบpida
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 canโ€™t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and itโ€™s my son
And I remember, today heโ€™s my lifeโ€™s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I canโ€™t let my depression win
Iโ€™m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my childโ€™s presence
makes my bad days worth living