Poetry: The Answer

I wrote this in December of 2021.

truth

Thanks to learning about my BPD
I’m finally free to be me
There is a reason for my numbness
and for why I’m such an emotional mess
Genetics and trauma played a part
for me constantly falling apart
There is a reason for my impulsivity
and for why I distort reality
There is a reason for men running away from me
when I go from being sweet to being crazy
And now that I know I have BPD
I can conquer the world of DBT
I hope that after I’m more calm
And stop going off like a bomb
Hopefully I have more control over my emotions
And there will no longer be hysterical explosions

Poetry: Racing Thoughts

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

What do I do with a mind that won’t quit?
It keeps me on this never ending guilt trip
These racing thoughts keep me up at night
And tell me write, write, write
And I want it all to stop the overflowing inspiration
from my muse cup
But this is who I am
and forever will be
a bipolar and BPD me
trying hard to deal with existing

Poetry: Scenes of Dissociation

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

share your story

I fantasize about death after my boyfriend’s rejection
I’m so out of touch with reality, a car stops inches away from me
the driver honks at me and cusses me out
I am 15

I want to throw myself of the bridge on the way
to confirm I’m my parent’s worst failure
but a kick inside me saves me
I am 17

I want my baby to stop crying, my head is starting to spin
with psychosis and I hold him a little too tight
until my husband takes him from away me
I am 30

I’m crying while spewing nonsense
while my lover looks at me in horror and disgust
I know it’s over
I am 40

Poetry: I’m Done Apologizing

I wrote this in January of 2022.

me in January of 2022

I’m done apologizing for being too much or not enough
I’ve always been enough
I’m done apologizing for being crazy
I’m God’s creation of a perfect imperfection
I’m done apologizing for being too bland or too spicy
I’m a perfect blend of whatever I want to be
I’m done apologizing for being me!

Poetry: Writing is My Lifeline

I wrote this in January of 2022.

me in January of 2022 in my writing attire

Writing is my lifeline
with it, I’m almost fine
without it I’m almost lost
and my mind pays the cost

Writing is my lifeline
Especially since I’m borderline
It’s brings my truth to the forefront
It’s almost my antidepressant

Writing is my lifeline
It’s part of my life’s design
I accept it as my passion
and also my ammunition

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

Poetry: My Real Diagnosis

I wrote this in January of 2022.

if I had to be honest with myself

my real diagnosis should be “failure at love”
childhood trauma gave me abandonment issues
teenage trauma cemented it and added identity issues
combined with chronic emptiness
I couldn’t stand the constant void within
so I chased love trying to fill it
constantly sought out validation from men
to stop feeling ugly and alone
I’ve used them and they’ve used me
as band aids for our mutual loneliness
and when I start to feel sure of their love
it suddenly disappears
and all of my issues came back with force
with suicidal ideation entwined
And still I dusted myself off
and tried my luck with love over and over again
thinking each time it will be different
except it never is
they always tire of me and decide to leave
and once again my insanity hits and I break
Intrusive thoughts spiral in my head in an endless loop
“’i’m a failure to love,i’m a failure at love,
i’m a failure with love,i’m never enough,
i’m worthless, death must be better than this”
this was my tragic love story for 26 years
but on year 26, I said “fuck this tragic love story”
and I got the courage to change it
I’m not a failure to love, I’m not a failure at love
or I’m not a failure with love
I’m enough by myself, I can be alone by myself
and I turn into a success story of love

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: I Scoff at Your Good Intentions

I wrote this in January of 2022. I was mad about everything. Lol.

Judgment feels like harsh criticism dressed up in “good intentions”
“you have a college degree, you should be doing better”
or “I’ll respect you when you drive”-thank you for the support sister
Ignorance taste like harsh criticism dressed up “in good intentions”
“I’m saying this out of love, you should be like other latinos
and work and don’t go to college” -thanks for the encouragement coworker
Judgment feels like impossible standards I can never measure up to
it’s an ocean of emotional abuse dressed up as “good intentions”
by calling out my insecurities and pointing out how I’m not enough

Poetry: Love me out LOUD

I wrote this in December of 2021.

me in December of 2021

I’m not meant to be loved behind closed doors
or only at night or kept as your little secret
I’m not meant to be the mistress, the side chick
or your on call whore
I’m not meant to be devoured at your convenience in 2 hour increments
I’m meant to be taken out in public in the daytime
and introduced to your family and friends
I’m meant to be part of your relationship status, your girlfriend,
your partner in crime
I’m meant to be paraded and exhibited everywhere
but most of all I’m meant to be loved out loud

December Poetry Challenge: Growth

This was my response to prompt #31: One word to describe your year

Growth was uncomfortable and made me want to crawl out of my skin
I had to acknowledge my own toxicity and take accountability
I stopped blaming my parents or exes for my sadness and angst
I held up a mirror to myself and recognized it was me holding myself back
I was the worst villain in my story and never the victim
I chose to turn this story around and confront my trauma head on,
write my demons out-embrace my self-imposed solitary confinement,
throw out my self invalidation, learn self compassion
In order to evolve into a person of value and worth
I let go of anything unhealthy and make sacrifices
by giving up my self-destructive vices
Growth could only happen in solitude and embracing radical honesty

Poetry: Kyleena

I wrote this in December of 2021 when I got on a new form of hormonal birth control. It’s an understatement to say that it amped up the intensity of my emotions.

I was a mess but at least I was a hot mess…lol

I’ve bled for more than 40 days and 40 nights
but my doctor says I need to grin and bear it
My hormones are in constant flux
I want to die, I want to scream
Is God punishing me for my past sins?
My mood swings are uncontrollable
No matter what I do, I can’t find the calm
Anger, rage, sadness, and despair
are my emotional staples
And within a span of 3 weeks
I write poetry at 3am, crash my car,
and breakup with my friend
When will this madness end?
My doctor says give it 6 more weeks
but my mind and body are losing it
over this 2 inch form of torture
Will the next 6 weeks get calmer?
or will I go down in infamy?

December Poetry Challenge: Music to Listen to While You Crochet

Easy E,Tupac, and Dr.Dre calmed me down
when I was lost amidst a nervous breakdown
I couldn’t remember who the fuck I was
or where I came from
then I blasted some Gangsta Rap in my ear
and remembered who the fuck I was
I’m a Queen from the land of the Incas
raised in West L.A and Paradise
I’m made to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes
even when they come disguised as humans
that’s when I turned my grief into anger and rage
and knew I wouldn’t be “just okay”
I would make this my greatest comeback in my life story