I wrote this in 2002 when I was really depressed. I probably should have gone to therapy but instead I wrote poetry.
sometimes this feels true
My emotional pain is killing me at a steady pace with no means of stopping Or even slowing down I don’t know how to feel good about myself anymore I forgot what it’s like to laugh or smile What’s left of my pride is gone.
I wrote this in 2002 about my ex Andrew whom I dated briefly in 1997/1998. Well, we’ll call him the first Andrew because I love to recycle names. Lol. I had a tendency to get nostalgic about because the love and infatuation I felt for him was really, really intense. Also, our story was kind of crazy in its own right but that’s another blogpost. I’ll just say that I idealize him and placed him on a pedestal for many, many years after we broke up.
so true
I think of you tonight More than I do on most nights Listening to this melancholic song Brings back all of those precious moments With you in my mind When we were each other’s whole world And nothing or no one else mattered except you and I And I wonder if I ever run through that beautiful mind of yours Or if I ever reached your heart if even for the briefest moment
I wrote this in 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. It kind of sucks that this situation happened BUT at least I got some salty poetry out of it. Lol.
triggered
Hey Mr.Donor man How does it feel to have your son Learn you never wanted to come That you talked big shit and never meant any of it That no matter how hard I tried for him you never wanted to be a daddy to him That you were so fucking lame You couldn’t even give him your last name That to you, his mom was just good fun That you’re a fucking coward you never dared to be his father Don’t worry though He’ll always have my love And without you, he’ll be just fine One day I’ll meet a man who is kind Who will love him and I and will want us in his life Who’ll be glad to take the place of The man who couldn’t give us love Who will come to his defense when things get tense Who will stick around And won’t bring him down Who will finally be The dad you never wanted to be
I wrote this poem about my oldest son’s bio dad in February of 2002. A lot of residual resentment I had towards him was because he wouldn’t step up. My empathy button for him was really broken for him and in this case maybe it needed to be.
it be like that sometimes
Three years too late You’ve decided to embrace your fate You’ve decided to recognize your mistake And fill my ears with apologies For not accepting mine and his existence
So now you feel like playing dad And expect me to forgive and forget about the misery you left us in The years of being a fucking deadbeat to him Please do what you do best Walk away and put this situation to rest For he doesn’t need A false wannabe daddy Who will cause him harm in the long run
Escribí este poema en 2002 acerca cuando estaba involucrada con mi compañero de trabajo Lucas que estaba casado. Estaba bien celosa y amarga.
La Verdad, yo fui una de muchas
Usted qué espera señor Que le siga dando amor Sabiendo que usted comparte mis caricias, mis noches Tambien con ella Sabiendo que me duele el alma Cada vez que me entero Que usted estuvo con aquella Lo siento, pero no estoy aquí para ser su tonta Por nuestro “amor” Esta historia tiene que parar Y no lo quiero ver nunca más
I wrote this in September of 2001, I guess I was frustrated with dating because it sucked getting stuck in relationships I had no business being in. Half the time, I did it to not be lonely but then I found myself miserable.
the magic is in you
A Liberal Kind of Love
Holding hands and kisses on the cheeks is what we are no longer about
Hot and sweaty bodies fucking with a goodbye note in the morning is now our nature
Respect, honesty, and trust are long forgotten words
Deception, disillusionments and selfishness are now our sacred words
I wrote this in 2001 about the great breakup of 2001. This is the last poem I wrote about this relationship. One of the aspects that I was hyper focused on during this breakup was being cheated on. Another reason, I flew into a rage was because “S” ex wife would not stop calling me after the breakup. It got to the point I had to change my phone number. She wasn’t exactly mean, I think she was trying to reach out as a fellow victim of “S” deception and wanted someone to process the pain with but I wanted no part of it. It felt too raw and painful for me at the time for me. And she wasn’t the only that called me about “S” cheating on me, there had been another chick by the name of Mariah. Also, the other part was that me and “S” communicated via email after the breakup for a few days just to fight about everything and place blame on each other. Emotions were really high not just on my part but for everyone involved. Also, this situation brought up triggers from my previous relationship with Paul. There are the reasons I went into a rage and ended up writing more than 40 poems about a 6 week long relationship.Reflecting on this now at 40, I can honestly say that I did process and heal from that breakup when it happened. I mean I did write like more than 40 poems about but maybe it’s what I needed to do at the time. I also don’t hold a grudge about “S” or his ex or anyone involved. Everyone was in their early 20s and we were all trying to do our best at that time and maybe our best looks shitty to other people.
maybe we were all counterfeits
You two were made for each other Like the sun was made to be hot To you I was just another toy To play with, But once the newness wore off You decided to go back to Your old comfortable teddy bear Unfortunately old habits are hard to break
This one is actually not salty but rather nostalgic about the great breakup of 2001.I think that one of reasons I had so much anger was that I hated myself for still having feelings for “”S” after the breakup. I felt weak for it and went against the image of strength that I had at the time.
Honestly…it will probably take 100 men to write my biography,,,lol
How I wish so much for another day with your warm touch How I would like to believe deep down that you still care about me How I would like to turn back time and go back to those days when you were mine How I would like to say Please don’t go away How I still long to dance another slowsong
So today marks my 10 anniversary since starting this blog. I’ll admit that until the summer of this year I didn’t take this blog as seriously as maybe I should have. I started this blog in December of 2011 after my house was broken into and we were robbed. It was traumatizing to me and my family and I needed a way to process it so I started blogging. Here is that blogpost:
Since starting this blog, there have been a lot of life changes. I’ve blog about those life changes few times when just writing it down doesn’t do the trick. The way that I have explained it to friends and family is that the blog is like screaming into the void of cyberspace.In October of 2019, I started posting my poetry and this was another level of intimacy for me because I don’t share my poetry with just anyone. I will share my poetry or writing with one of my close friends or sometimes at open mic at my local pub .Then I started a second job and I didn’t have the time needed to dedicate to this blog but I always kept writing. Then I got into a relationship that lasted until July of this year. While I’m not getting into how that relationship ended or why (that’s blog content for late next year-lol) it was one of the reasons I started blogging again. The demise of that relationship was unexpected and devastating for me so I turned to my first coping mechanism-writing. Shortly before my breakup in July, I started therapy and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and that was a lot to process in itself. Being broken up while dealing with a new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder felt like I had experienced 2 really horrible car wrecks within a week. I compare it to a car accident because that’s probably one of the most traumatizing experiences of my life. Except this time, it wasn’t my car that was totaled and unrepairable, it was me. I felt like I had lost part of my identity since I was no longer someone’s partner and I gained a new part of my identity in being diagnosed with BPD. I felt completely overwhelmed with no sense of direction; I honestly didn’t know what to do next. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry while Alexa played my sad girl playlist from Spotify. Here is that playlist:
And while I did do that some of the time; I understood I still needed to get up every day and show up for myself somehow. And showing up for myself meant writing. And so I wrote every day in my journal and in my numerous notebooks. I wrote letters at 3 AM that I would never send, journal entries full of immense sadness and rage, and tons and tons of poetry.
these are just a few of my journals and well Sylvia Plath is of course one of my favorite poets
A few days after my breakup, I decided to blog about my diagnosis to start to make sense of it and here’s that post:
After writing that post and it got more than a few views and a couple of likes, it made me realize that there are other people like me. I also got the idea at that time that healing for me would look like me revisiting past traumatic situations through my poetry and reflections or writing a blog post. And this was chaotic in itself because I started posting poetry from all stages in my life. So around late October and early November, I started posting poetry for the most part chronologically from the early stages of my writing with the very first poem I wrote when I was 15 and here’s that poem:
My writings and poetry are confessional, sometimes childish, and at times super emotional. It’s meant for people who have felt misunderstood in their anger and grief, it’s meant for people who feel everything at once and feel overwhelmed by it, it’s meant for people who have traumas they’re still not over, and it’s meant for people who have given their trust and vulnerability to the wrong people only to be broken over and over again by doing this.
so I kept writing
My future plan for this blog is to continue to post poetry, essays, playlists, and other writings. Without intending to, this blog has become a storytelling blog. And it’s a story about a woman who is far from perfect. It’s a story of woman who lies, who loves hard, who hates even harder, who loves sex, who has been abandoned by lovers and who has abandoned lovers, who’s crazy, and who feels immense sadness and rage when trauma hits. It’s a story of a woman who fucks up continuously but still manages to get up and try to become a better version of herself than she was yesterday. It’s also a story of a woman who has continued to triumph after trauma. Most importantly it’s a story of a woman who is done accommodating to people’s and society’s expectations of who she should be and at 40 has realized that being authentic and true to herself is the only and right way for her to be. I may have changed a lot within a decade but what will never change is my love for writing and my purpose to continue to share my story.
Here’s to 10 more years of writing about my vida loca
Maybe I am the girl version of Joe Goldberg after all. LMAO. Of course, this was written about the great breakup of 2001.
Maybe I am sad finding out you were such a cad Maybe I am blue Knowing you were never true Maybe I was too blind to see you weren’t really into me Maybe I was a fool To never have seen past your bull Maybe I am done With guys like you using me for fun Maybe just maybe I can get past all this Knowing one day you’ll have to pay for this
I wrote this in December 2001 after seeing my ex “S” from the “great breakup of 2001”. I saw him at mall while I was shopping. I remember not being able to breathe and having to get out of there.
forgiveness is hard
I was minding my own business when I came upon your ugly face I started right away to get restless Thinking how you had been such a fucking waste I hope you didn’t notice How I had forgotten to breathe How the memory of your kiss Came back to me That’s when I had to turn around and leave
This was the second poem I wrote in December of 2001 inspired after seeing my ex “S” at the mall. I was still feeling all of those raw emotions after this breakup when I wrote this. Looking back on it, I’m glad that at the time, I took my emotions out on paper instead of finding other means of escape with alcohol or someone else.
There you were In front of me My love murderer I wanted to yell and scream and say You are the most deceitful, lying, scum king I wanted to throw at you my fist with all my might And punch those lips I had once kissed I wanted to kill you with a look that said You bastard, look at how much you took away from me Instead, I had to walk away and take back with me All I wanted to do or say
I wrote this about the great breakup of 2001. I guess part of the reason why I reacted the way I did was because my ego took a big hit. I mean, I’m already a person that has identity and self esteem issues and each breakup triggers a feeling of worthlessness inside that’s hard to get rid of.
So true
You’ll never know How much you’ve hurt me so You’ll never see The mess you’ve made of me You’ll never hear The words “ I love you dear” You’ll never ever find out That loving you was what I was about
For I am too damn proud To admit I was a fool out loud For I have too much pride To ever let you see me cry For I have too much dignity To ever let you return to me For I have too much respect To ever let you turn me into a wreck
I wish I could’ve spent more time picking up a hobby than writing all of this salty poetry about this dude. LMAO. This is of course another poem inspired by the “great breakup of 2001”.
I wish I could Forget all of you And take back the time Spent loving you I wish I could make you see All of the misery you caused me I wish I could make you feel My pain that is so extremely real I wish I could see you hurting It would be something I would take comfort in I wish I could just not care But life isn’t always fair