Maybe I was too harsh with my words Frustrated with rejection and abandonment I was filled with anger and resentment that needed to bleed on paper Maybe I’ve been too much of a critic Cutting you down with petty words and insults Perhaps I was projecting my own insecurities Maybe I should have taken some of the blame of your unexpected departures I know I’m not an easy woman to be with often times I’m too emotional and needy And maybe, just maybe I forgive all of you and me We were all trying our best to love and be loved And sometimes even our best isn’t enough
SO …I’m a hyper sexual person at times. My sex drive tends to be intense and insatiable. I use to think that it was both a blessing and a curse but now I really accept that it’s part of who I am and I’m no longer ashamed or feel guilty about it. This poem from 2015 is about me really enjoying blowjobs.
You left me in an eternal darkness Without any compassion, without any humanity You caused me an infinite pain with your malicious and false ways You left me in a world of insecurity How can I trust ever again? But I promise you thing you’ll remember me After our painful parting You had it all with me And now there’s no way To recover my love With a unique and ardent warmth
I wrote this in January of 2018 when me and my starter husband had opened up our relationship. The person “B” who inspired this poem was the first guy I was with after this transition. It’d be the first of unstable whateverships/relationships from that year that would restart this unhealthy pattern. This poem is also a perfect example of my black and white thinking. I idealized my husband and devalued the other person. I also felt guilt and shame sleeping with someone else who wasn’t my husband even though we were in an open relationship.
me in 2018 around the time I wrote this poem
I’m disappointed once again -being here with you You represent everything I thought I wanted But- You don’t compare to him You make my body sing with kisses but don’t sweep up the mess that I am You give me pleasure but can’t handle my pain You are there to fuck me but never to rescue me SO I choose him Who chooses to be there for me When I chase for death in a bathtub or a bottle Because while sex and lust feels good When it’s happening It doesn’t compare to the love and support he’s provided in keeping me alive So I say goodbye to a life Full of lust filled fantasies and accept the one and only who truly cares for me
So I had forgotten to post this poem from the great breakup of 2001.
haha…it be like that sometimes
I guess it was fate For you to cross that thin line Between love and hate You were really a waste of time Now you’ll never know How good you and me could’ve been Or how much I really loved you so But your love was only a smoke screen I even thought we had forever because I wanted to believe you were true but I guess you were another whatever and I was another one you’d screw Now there’s nothing left to say and it’s time to forget everything
I wrote this in 2017 during my great depression. I guess I was just annoyed and angry by society.
me in 2017 around the time I wrote this poem
Simple decency is becoming extinct Manners and politeness is rare rudeness and sarcasm is the norm Being kind feels outdated in this narcissistic society filled with superfluous and superficial people Who bring their harsh and shallow attitudes everywhere There is no escape from this epidemic of the nothingness that tries to appear profound It is a society that blames the victim “ but what was she wearing?” or “He was hanging out with the wrong kids” It is a society that’s prejudiced against anyone different “Go back to where you came from” “You’ll never belong here” “People will always remember how you made them feel”, Maya Angelou said Unnecessary, weak, aloof, isolated alone Is how this world makes me feel I’m a FAILURE trying to accommodate myself to this world full of shallow feelings I miss the kind and real people in this world It’s rare to find them now They are almost extinct
I wrote this poem sometime around 2014 or 2015. I was feeling nostalgic about a former flame I had been obsessed with. This tends to happen a lot with me. Letting go of my past is hard at times.
I wrote this in 2009 when I was feeling contemplative about life.
Sylvia Plath gets me
Horizon
The horizon stretches out before me In a limitless manner I see a future but am unsure Of which path to walk towards Everything is a blank slate to me Undefined by my indecision The moment I choose Is the moment I’ll become Something, anything Than the nothingness That I am
The horizon stretches out before me Offering everything and nothing Offering this or that Offering a wasted life Or a meaningful one
The horizon stretches out before me And I need to stop My hesitation And become a person of actions And do something, anything So the horizon is not wasted
It’s a wound that never closes No matter how many years are spent trying to close it
To taste the pure heaven that is you and have it swept from under me in a sudden swoop made the everlasting wound
I looked everywhere for somebody to help me close it But no matter how hard they tried, the wound wouldn’t come close to closing
I finally met someone who lessened the pain of the wound with his gentle and understanding nature But even after 6 years as his patient the wound remains open
I wrote this poem in 2008. One the BPD traits is feeling restless and oh my, I feel this a lot. Sometimes it’s for a few hours, sometimes it’s for a few days and I write about it.
Life on the BPD 