Poetry: Forgiving My Younger Self

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice

I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021

I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright

I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog

I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best

I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer

Poetry: Restless and Unsettled

Aqui esta la version en Espanol:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/17/poesia-inquieta/

I am restless and unsettled
realizing you never loved me
I was just another girl to you
nothing special, nothing meaningful
just someone temporary to pass the time with
I’m growing tired of this repetitive story
Another love that expires when I ask
for something more
Another story that starts off with so much promise
only to end up as another tragedy

Poetry: Fighting

I wrote this in January of 2022. I was angry.

I ask myself this question every day

Fighting for my cause
I question everything I learned
I take time to pause
my childhood lies burn
and make feel lost

Fighting for my family
I get so fucking angry
Why are people so shitty?
insulting my ancestry-
projecting their insecurities onto me-
Wait, are they jealous of me?

Fighting for my life
I pause of a while
thinking about all of my strife
and the past I need to reconcile
to move forward with my life
but this fight is worthwhile

Poetry: Crossroads

I wrote this in January of 2022.

yeah…stop that shit

I’m at another one of life’s crossroads
trying not to make a turn for the worst
don’t stop but don’t go too fast
I want my momentum to last
I slow down and observe
and carefully ride life’s curves
and this time I really listen
and reach out to close friends
I’m not okay but I will be okay
soon I’ll find my way
I’m still grasping for a stable sense of self
and learning how to love and accept myself

Play-Transition: Scene Two

Here is a link to the first scene:https://wp.me/p23LY2-1qp

Scene 2: 

SETTING: Landon’s apartment. The aesthetic in this apartment is minimalist There are no stray things around. There is a very expensive looking sculpture. Landon has a very simple geometric painting. There is a glass coffee table at the center and really sparse furniture. CHLOE is at the door ready to knock. LANDON is in an expensive jog suit and on his laptop writing a business negotiation. 

CHLOE knocks tentatively on LANDON’s door, Landon looks through his smallish peephole, sighs deeply, plasters a forced smile on his face and opens the door. 

LANDON: Chloe, hi! To what do I owe the pleasure of having my little sister come over here unannounced. Do you want a drink ?

CHLOE: (goes to sit down slowly on the expensive chair) No…uhh..I wouldn’t have come over if I didn’t think it was important. 

LANDON: Well, you know, you could always send me a text or call me.

CHLOE: You never answer your phone or reply to my texts. Besides, this is really important. 

LANDON: Well, you know, I’m a busy guy. You could have a little more consider-

CHLOE gets frustrated and yells.

CHLOE: It’s about dad!

LANDON: Jesus! You’re on that business again. I thought I had already made it clear to you what needs to be done.

CHLOE: No,you didn’t. You’ve skirted around the issue without resolving anything.

LANDON: What is there to resolve? He seems okay living by himself. 

CHLOE: You only see him once a month at the most . He’s struggling and doesn’t want to admit it. He’s not only holding on to mom’s old stuff but is accumulating new stuff as a way to deal with his grief. And to make matters worse, the landlord is about to put him out. We need to reason with him. 

LANDON: How is the landlord going to put him out ? I give the old biddy a little something extra so she doesn’t bother him. 

CHLOE: You don’t understand.It’s not about money, they want him out because dad has basically made the place a hazard. We need to help dad. 

LANDON: And what is your suggestion. Einstein?

CHLOE: Well, you know, he could always move in with you.

LANDON: Like hell he can. Listen, I got a better suggestion. I put up the money, you make all the arrangements and we put him in one of those assisted living places. He’ll be surrounded by –

CHLOE: Are you nuts? A nursing home because you don’t want your life inconvenience

LANDON: I don’t see what’s so bad—

CHLOE: It will kill him! He will hate it. You can’t always just throw money at every fucking problem. You are such a selfish jerk. 

LANDON: And you are a mindless little idiot. Are you done now?

CHLOE: (feeling rather defeated and sighs) Will you at least come with me to reason with him. He won’t listen to me but at least he will listen to you, his favorite child.

LANDON: Sure. I need to see when I’m free. Maybe next week, I could pencil something—

CHLOE: God damnit! Don’t you understand that the situation is urgent? He could be out on the street by the end of the week.

LANDON: Must you always be such a drama queen?

CHLOE: Ugh..there no use talking to you (Chloe mutters under breath, you just don’t fucking care)

LANDON: What did you say?

CHLOE: Nothing.

LANDON: Fine, I’ll go with you this Wednesday afternoon.

CHLOE: Okay.

CHLOE  slams the door and sighs deeply.

Poetry: Death

I wrote this in January of 2022 when I was depressed.

honestly

I welcome death to take me away tonight-
death must be better than the anger
that has made an eternal home in me
death must feel better than this emptiness
that lies in my heart
death has to be better than this sorrow
that floods my pillow with tears continuously
death would be better than my emotions
that threaten to consume me

Poetry: Decade of Lies

I wrote this poem in 2019 when I found out my friend Brad had lied to me for a decade about something pretty important.

I was the unknown sidepiece

17 years of friendship ruined

Because of one lie

One lie turned into a decade

Of lying to ME–

  His supposed close friend

ME

A girl he supposedly loved and cared for

ME

The one he claimed meant a  lot to him

But he couldn’t come clean

With his truth 

He couldn’t man up and be honest

Instead he lied and lied and lied

Until 

The lie came out 10 years too late

I’m overreacting, he says

But friendship like I know friendship 

Is not built on a foundation of 

Lies, betrayal, and mistrust

 Fuck off,

Glad you’re gone,

Good riddance,

Hope you remember the words of anger

I wrote to you 

And you keep your promise 

To never contact me again. 

December Poetry Challenge: Tomorrow

This was my response to prompt #23: What’s you’d really like to do tomorrow

Kailua Beach, Hawaii-my former paradise

Tomorrow I’d like to swim for the first time in my former paradise
and after lay out in the sun in my bikini
I’ve loved feel the sand everywhere instead of tolerating
another dreary and rainy day in Georgia
My mood would improve and I would write more happy poems
Instead of writing about how I hate my existence
and everyone and everything in it

Poetry: Tell ME

Aqui esta en enlace para la version en Espanol:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/22/poesia-dime/

Why did you break our romantic ties?
What did she have to make you leave me suddenly?
Why do I keep repeating the same stupid story,
of finding myself the woman used and scorned?
I’m fucking exhausted with rage
always making the same mistake over and over again
giving all of my myself to another confused man
who leaves me when I’m no longer easy

December Poetry Challenge: De-cluttering

This is my response to prompt #16: Your favorite household chore

it’s always your responsibility

Springtime is here, it’s my favorite time of the year
I blast out music from Alexa and start de-cluttering
Anais Nin books I’ll never read go into the donation box
her life no longer inspires me
Dresses and outfits I wore to my trauma
are packed in a suitcase destined for Lima
Dozens of therapy sheets are recycled
I finally found calm and serenity
Springtime is here and it’s to get rid of everything
that no longer fits this new version of me

December Poetry Challenge: A Slow Death

This is my response to prompt #10: One thing you could not give up

Don’t ask me to give up writing….EVER

You might as well do radical lobotomy
before you make me give up writing
You’d be asking me to give up
one of the things I most love–
my creativity with poetry and prose
brings me purpose and meaning on my good days
and helps me stay alive on my bad days
so if you ever ask me to give up my paper and pen
Understand you’d be asking for my slow death

Poesia:Te Odio con Todo Mi Corazón

Click the link below for the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/16/poetry-losing-my-mind/

Recibir esa llamada infame
mato mi calma e ego
descubriendo que había sido engañada
por el que me profesaba amor
Me hizo perder mi cordura
¿cómo pudiste hacerme esto?
Fuistes otro desastre
lleno de duplicidad
te odio con todo mi corazón
por destrozar todo lo que éramos

Poetry: Forgotten Anniversary

I wrote this in December 2018 when my husband forgot our 8 year anniversary. I guess I was a little salty and kind of still processing the breakup of our marriage.

December 9, 2010

He forgot our 8 year anniversary
I didn’t remind him because it didn’t really matter.
Hopefully, this time next year, we will be divorced.
There was no use in feeling sad or spilling tears
Over something that would end soon.
There was no use in feeling devastated over
Something that never should have happened.
Vows that should never have been taken.
Promises of love that were doomed from the beginning.
Empty words that were never believed in.
8 years of marriage; an institution we thought
would bind us for eternal life.
So that maybe the sting of resentment and neglect
wouldn’t break us apart.
He forgot our 8 year anniversary

Just like he forgot all of his promises to
“Try harder” or “to change”
So I wouldn’t leave.
He forgot our 8 year anniversary.
And it’s fine.
You don’t celebrate something
That is already dead.

Poetry: My Book of Love and Lust

Para la version en Espanol, haga clic en este enlace:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/10/poesia-yo-pense/

I thought nothing could ruin our love

now everything we once were is lost

because once again I was wrong, wrong, wrong

I wasn’t aware of your secret lust filled missions

you’re another confused boy

and to you I was another toy

You were another tourist

in my book of love and lust

Poesia: Otra Mentira Mas

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/27/eliza-conquers-liars-poetry-edition/

Fui bruta y me queme
No queria creer
Que ibas a ser otra decepción
Aunque había muchas señas
Mi corazón se rehusó a resignarse
No quería concebir en la noción
que tu amor era una desilusión
ahora me siento inutil
a ver el mal que me hiciste
se que estará mucho mejor sin ti
Aunque sea imposible dejarte
Es adios para siempre
Al ver que tu amor fue otra mentira más