Poetry: Intensity

I search for peace and tranquility but it evades me
sometimes I find it but it quickly dissipates
Feeling so much all of the time gets exasperating
I yearn for a vacation from this intensity
I’m starting to think this is my destiny
To fall in love hard and feel heartbreak even harder
To write a few poems when I’m in love
To write a hundred poems when I face another love failure
maybe it’s best to truly accept me
a girl sometimes full of serenity
a girl always full of intensity

poetry: heaven

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

vibe: victorian and broody

this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up
don’t know which way is up
don’t know which way is down
don’t know what is right
don’t know what is wrong
I want someone’s hand to hold but they reach for my breast
I want innocent kisses on the cheek
but they reach for the heaven between my thighs

Poetry: Sunday

I wake up on a Sunday
Mad and angry
You’re not here
In my arms
Because I was too much
I was too Insane
Too old
So I lay alone
In tears that won’t fall
Numb
Wondering-
When will I ever
Find someone
To take away
The numbness
Of the experience
Of a life not loved
Of a face not kissed
Of an intimacy faked!

poetry: fix me

I wrote this poem in June of 2024.

can’t imagine why anyone wants to fix this picture of perfection

everyone I meet wants to fix me
my hair is wild and indomitable
my grammar is atrocious
my laugh is too loud
and we can’t forget about my crooked teeth
and while most of them mean well
I wonder what’s so wrong with me
that people always fixate on my flaws

Poetry: Never

I can never compete

With a lifetime of love, of memories

Of him knowing her 

Even when she breaks his heart

Over and over and over again

Even when I let him break mine

Over and over and over again

It’s a vicious cycle of  love, heartbreak, and regret

A cycle where I continue to break my own heart

Because I will never be pretty or skinny 

Like her

I will never be enough!

Poetry: Twenty Years Later

He looked at me like no one’s
ever looked at me
He kissed me with an unquenchable
passion unforeseen
And he touched me, my body
And my soul the way no one ever could
He hugged me tight enough so I felt
The entire essence of him, the past twenty years
Of everything we ever felt for each other
Twenty years of lust, obligations, lies,
Hatred, resentment, passion, memories, life,
And LOVE
In his arms I felt like I was me AGAIN

Poetry: The Monster of Insecurity

It dwells in the back of my mind-

Could this be too good to be true?

Will he need distance soon?

Insecurity takes over after finding

 something so sure.

Insecurity tells me I’m not good enough.

Insecurity tells me that I don’t deserve him.

Insecurity tells me one day this will end

  and it will be absolutely devastating.

poetry: awkward

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

I’m a classy bitch

I’m ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay
shared over awkward getting to know you conversations
with no expectations to put out
I’ll be a completely different woman when I’m dating again
a woman selective about who allows near her
a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention
from the wrong men

poetry: glass of champagne

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

a toast to this woman

a glass of champagne in my hand as I raise a toast
who I used to be
a woman mentally ill and needy
a woman who gave men easy access to her hips
a woman who thought intimacy could only be created
and felt in between her sheets
we say goodbye to the his woman lovingly
as we usher a new era of me
a woman who knows her worth
and won’t settle of anything less
than she deserves

Poetry: Border

me in the summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

There is a border around you

Cemented with callousness

Every now and then 

I see glimpses of good-

Within you

But only on the nights

When you are drunk and lonely

Only the nights

When you want my skin 

To cover yours

You give me orgasms 

And sweet compliments

And fill me up with lies-

And the day after

Your border is closed

Its impenetrable

So hard to break through

So hard to keep loving you

So I give up

Every time I TRY

To chisel a little at it 

My heart hurts

and breaks a  little more

So I”ll stop trying to break through

No matter how happy you make me

For a few hours

You’re not worth

Days, weeks, and months 

Of misery 

Poetry: Once Again

Again and again and again

-I let you back in 

You take me in passionately

    and intensely

And without thinking

I’m back in your arms

  And for the briefest of moments

I believe you love me 

 Loneliness makes one blind

To the sad reality 

You just like the convenience of my hips

Lust makes one blind 

To the hard truth

You just like to use 

The warmth of my body

To covers yours 

At your leisure 

poetry: rebranding

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

soft girl energy

I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am

poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity

poetry: buspar

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

image of me when I tried to quit Buspar

I wanted to kill my sex drive so I stopped taking buspar
and while my sex drive has finally waned
the side effects are slowly killing me
between the mental fog, the constant headaches,
the nausea followed by the loss of appetite
there’s a reason they tell you to wean slowly
from psychiatric drugs, to do it under the care
of a medical provider
stopping cold turkey lends to a spiral of madness
and a physical ailment I never intended

poetry: three years ago

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

thinking about the chaotic move of May of 2021

three years ago, I was dealing with the most chaotic move of my life
never thought my new home would see the death of me
the princess who moved in
and the resurrection of the queen I was about to become