I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
silence is no longer an option
if I continue to do so, I’d be suffocating the part of me
who needs to be heard in order to heal
I’d be failing myself, my ancestors, and future generations
silence is no longer an option
to do so is an act of violence against the writer and poet in me
whose purpose is to tell my story, my truth in order to recover
here’s the english version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/24/poetry-lucassong/
Nuestra canción suena en la radio
y el recuerdo de nuestra corta aventura de amor regresa
me pierdo en nostalgia y remordimientos
cómo es que una conversación de música
se volvió en unos de mis cuentos más dolorosos de amor
Cómo es que la vergüenza y culpabilidad de nuestro cuento de infidelidad
todavÃa me persigue en sueños y me hace sentir mal
quizás no fue tu intención causarme un infierno de trauma
Quizás deberÃa superarte porque fuistes un desperdicie de mi tiempo
Pero a lo mejor es tiempo de perdoname y entender que hay algo de sanar
quizás contar nuestro cuento es la llave para recuperar
y poder enfocarme en el futuro que estoy construyendo
I wrote this in september of 2023.
The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message and asking, where are you?
I tell her, life didn’t go as planned-you’re divorced and looking for a place for your ex
but your kids are thriving-your oldest son has his driver’s license and is on his last semester
Of accounting at Athens Tech-
Your middle son will graduate from high school this year-
and your baby is now taller than you and becoming his own person
You’re working 2 jobs and you’re a citizen now and you’ve been to therapy
to learn healthier coping mechanisms-
you even drive now-you’re independent as fuck and live life on your own terms
you’ve even been to Peru twice-
You’re learning to follow your intuition and how use discernment in your choices
in how you live your life-
you’ve discovered your values underneath everything society brainwashed into you
and at the end of the day all you want be is a good mom and a good person
that’s the extent of your life’s purpose-
now that we know who we are
our next step is to plan the future we want-
we’ll keep on thriving girl-you were the go getter and determined woman in me
Even among one of my greatest depressions
You still got up and followed your passions-
And you laid the foundation-we’ll be okay-I promise
I’ll make you proud of me-
Love patty
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
in my literary war chest lies a lifetime of love failures,
insecurities about motherhood and confusion about my identity
in my literary war chest lies unfiltered thoughts about grief
for everything I never was and potential unfulfilled
in my literary war chest lies the answers to how I survived
Catastrophe after catastrophe-
In my literary war chest lies proof of my strength and resilience
in the worst of times
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questions your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
pride and ego keeps us from speaking our truths
we don’t want to be perceived as crazy or as a basket case
and we suppress, suppress, suppress-
only speaking with cordiality and respectability
when we should really cut through the bullshit
and let every unfiltered thought make it to paper
so we don’t drown in anxiety and depression
regretting everything that’s never been said
I wrote this in January of 2023.
when my inner bitch wakes up and rises-you better watch out
I have no scruples, I have no morals
my wrath has no limits
I’ll come after you with my words
call you out for hurting me or my loved ones
I’ll forget everything I learned in therapy
about compassion, about forgiveness
I won’t just act like a woman scorned
I’ll act like a villain in a horror movie
out for revenge
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: I Think
Pienso que es mejor morir que vivir en esta pesadilla
es mejor escapar un destino lleno de incertidumbre y dolor
porque el amor de tu vida no esta seguro si te ama
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
In my car-I scream, sing, write, and cry
I dissociate to my radio-blasting out Conan Gray
I can be as crazy I as want to be-
without the fear of being judged or talked about
the seat is molded to my petite frame
perfect for meditation
or for allowing myself to fall into my insanity
makes videos about how beautiful life is-
or how I no longer want to participate in it
my car used to feed into my deepest fears
and insecurities
but now I worship it
if it wasn’t for this sacred space away
from my office and home
I don’t know how I would cope
when the intensity of my thoughts
knock on my mind’s door
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Callar
our love dream has turned into a nightmare of stagnancy and routine
I walk carefully on eggshells to not disturb your peace so you don’t leave-
Is this how love is supposed to be?
More questions than answers, more confusion than clarity
More tears than laughter-
I want to stay for the sake of our family
but I’m starting to burn with resentment and anger
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Refusal
quizás me precipite en tratar de terminar nuestro cuento de amor
es que no se que pensar o hacer cuando te alejas de mi
cuando me haces sentir como una caprichosa por querer mas tiempo contigo
por querer tener un poco de tu afección
como podemos reparar las palabras hirientes que te tire
porque ahora nos une el niño en mi vientre
y no quiero que él sea el producto de un hogar roto
porque nosotros no sabemos cómo comprendernos
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow
who’s vindictive, petty, and mean
I’ve never really allowed her to breathe
much less be seen
and now she’s almost everywhere-
taking space in uncomfortable spaces
learning she’s not bad-
she just needed attention and to feel valued
I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me
who needs to be seen
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Vete de Aqui
We’ve lost our beginner’s luck and now see who we really are
two incompatible souls too stubborn to be alone
and let go of our made up illusion of love
and between our uncomfortable silences,
your distant demeanor, and my growing resentment
it’s better to close our chapter of love
before I start to really hate you
let’s end this while we can still walk away as friends
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Uncaring
prefiero un adiós honesto y con dignidad
que la farsa que estamos viviendo
prefiero terminar este cuento de dolor
donde tú finges ser mi principe azul
y yo finjo ser la princesa que tu tienes que salvar
lo único que estamos haciendo es evitar lo inevitable
admitir que lo de nosotros no va a ningun lado
Admitir nuestra incompatibilidad
y convertir nuestro cuento de amor
en un cuento de amistad
