I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have done the work-
I loved you more than enough to change, to accommodate
to make compromises, to share my vulnerability with you
but you weren’t ready to match my efforts
and love only grows when two people are ready to evolve
“standing firm”
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
for a long time I had given up on love-
thinking why should I even try
If I screw it up each and every time
but lately I feel myself lighter, happier-
and full of hope
that even after my disastrous love history
That’s still a world of romance left to experience and explore
There’s still more muses to write poetry about-
my love story didn’t end with an electronic pink slip
or being blocked from my whatevership
my love story will start over again
with someone who’s brave and strong enough to handle me-
and can’t imagine his life without me
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I make breakfast for me and my lover as he looks at me
he’s surprised i know how to cook
I’ve deceived him, lied that I didn’t know my way around the kitchen
I didn’t want to ruin my bad girl image
but for him I’ll uncover my domestic side, my feminine side
the side that wants to take care of him
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
staying sober from a lover is not easy for a love addict like me
it’s crying in bed wishing I was dead
it’s loneliness, making me crumble in a ball on the floor
making me feel unloved
and even though I have the cure with a text
to someone who’d put me out of my misery
I’d rather suffer for a while
even if it is a hell of a withdrawal
because if I’m ever going to have a healthy relationship
I need to be comfortable first with solitude
and the much needed introspection and healing it brings
aqui esta la versión en español:
poesía: mi nueva felicidad
let me sabotage this new relationship by comparing him to my ex-
the one I still write poems about, the one who still visits me in my dreams
the one who wouldn’t leave his wife or other lovers for me-
my new boyfriend treats me with respect and is such a calm guy
my friends tell me this is healthy but I find it boring
I miss being last on someone’s list
I miss being treated as an afterthought
I miss the inner chaos and conflict that came from the uncertainty
of not knowing if my lover was sure of me-
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
poesía: gracias a ti
cupid gets it wrong once again-
bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month-
This time he tells me,
“You’re cool enough to make out with
but not good enough for my mom”
I almost throw my phone across the room
instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay”
and take a pen to my rage on paper
Life on the BPD 