I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I give my pain and sorrow to God
and it lessens the heaviness in my soul
and I’ve never felt lighter
and I laugh more and feel content and gratitude
and I no longer want to die
Instead I’m excited to live
I’m excited about my wrinkles and every birthday
because I’m finally enjoying the gift of life
God has bestowed on me
here is a link to the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Dead to ME
no debí creer en tus promesas
pero quería darte una una oportunidad nueva
para cambiar tu cuento de cobarde al héroe
pero de nuevo me decepcionaste
esto me pasó por ser una terca, una romántica
y pensar que las personas pueden cambiar
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
even in our middle age, our mami still tends to us
calling us, asking about our eating habits and love life
giving bits of wisdom and encouragement
still worrying about us
she doesn’t have to
but it’s her nature to do so
it’s a habit of almost half a century that’s hard to break
it’s a tradition of an unconditional mother’s love
Aqui esta la version en español :
Poesia: Demaciado Sencilla
you told me I’m not wife material
so you dropped me like I was nothing
but not before you took me to your bed a few times
but not before filling my head with the illusion
that you wanted a future with me-
Are you sick in the head?
Is this how you always operate?
Finding an insecure girl to get your primal needs met
and later on dropping them like a bad habit
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
The emotional scars are starting to fade
As I’m starting a new phase
A phase full of love and laughter
A phase full of introspection and humility
and while I’m alone as I start this phase
I’m happier and healthier
I’ve taken off all of my masks
I’ve discarded my need to be loved and accepted
This is my era
One where I finally allow myself
To let others see the real me
Which activities make you lose track of time?
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Mistake
maldigo mi existencia, deseo ser cualquier otra persona
siempre cometo el mismo error
alucinando que sexo es amor
cuando en realidad es mi obsesión tóxica
con ser deseada, y sentir que valgo algo
para otro ser humano
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I was trapped in a mental cage of misery
I didn’t know how to rewrite my story
and while poetry helped me
it was with grief and therapy I finally felt free
I learned to let go of old resentments and grudges
and healed old emotional bruises
and while I still have minor annoyances
my anger and angst no longer control me
List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Gone
me desperte y encontre tu carta de despedida
me dijiste que tenias de dejarme,
ya no podías fingir que me amabas
Y que no eras el hombre que yo merecía
y era mejor decir adios que continuar tu farsa de amor
Y inmediatamente queme la nota
mientras maldecía nuestras existencias
llorando y ardiendo de rabia
porque denuevo me había metido con otro cobarde
que no pudo enfrentarme para despedirme de su vida
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
My disintegration looks like a tsunami that destroys me
I try to navigate the tidal waves of my emotions
and that tidal waves washes over me, and I’m overwhelmed
and my logic is short circuited, and impulsivity takes over
Oh shit I posted that
Oh fuck I bought that
Sorry, I didn’t mean that-
And I harm myself and others without malicious intent
and don’t remember how it happened
I wrote this poem in 2019.
Our relationship slowly wilted
Too many broken promises
Too many sacrifices on my part
I gave you my youth and you two children
and you couldn’t give me an ounce of affection
I tried to melt your icy cold wall and you denied my warmth
And I tried over and over again to save us!
But how do you save something that continues to die?
Date nights, long conversations,accommodating to your needs continuously,
and marriage counseling
but all of it was useless and completely pointless
So I gave up and let our marriage fall into a coffin
along with your broken promises to change
I even kept the coffin open with a slight hope we could fix us
But one day I got tired of waiting, waiting and waiting
and I decided to close the coffin and nail it shut-
It was time to bury our lackluster love
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
If you inspire me consider it a gift
it means you’ve made an impact on me
sure my words may feel angry
but that’s just me processing
because I have the most painful mental illness
and writing angry poems is how I deal with it
if you become my muse I must have felt something for you
could be hate or love
if you’re lucky, it’s both
that means you’ll be bestowed with endless poetry about you
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Error
forgetting him will be your biggest regret one day
as you grow older, you’ll wonder about what could have been
if only you had found your courage
if only you hadn’t been so passive
and now it’s getting too late for you to be a father to him
the seeds of resentment are growing in him
the damage of your abandonment is irreparable
Life on the BPD 