I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
can’t seem to get away from my demons no matter how fast i run,
no matter how healed I claim to be
they always haunt me in my dreams, or when I’m at my most vulnerable
and happy thinking life might finally be going right for me
But out of the blue, my new boyfriend annoys me,
unexpected bills show up, my stalker is back and creeping on my blog,
and I fight with my teenage son
I wonder what did I do to piss off the universe this time
I wrote poem in May of 2023.
my son is bright green as he explores the world
as he learns to communicate his needs
as he learns to navigate life
and comes across joy and heartbreak
and comes to me with questions
when something doesn’t work out
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
my joe goldberg is back and a sense of doom overwhelms me
especially because I know how psychol this Joe is
from thinking he’s in love with me because of my blog
to remember the constant barrage of harassment I endured from him
for a few years, I got a major case of the icks
and while I should be extra happy my blog is getting ten time the views
it normally gets
it creeps me out entirely knowing it’s him
knowing that somehow my blog and my pics on there
are fodder for his spank back and his many delusions
I wrote this poem in May of 2023.
It’s fading fast, the time where you willingly spend time with me
Soon you’ll prefer your friends to me
Soon you’ll lock yourself in your room and only come out for food
Your voice is changing and you’re already taller than me
and your hormones makes you all kinds of angry
and me and everyone in the house are in denial
that you’re growing up
because you’ve been the baby for so long
our little rainbow who lights up our family
and it’s hard for us to accept our baby is blossoming
into a young man
and every day my heart hurts more thinking
how fast it’s all going, and how soon I’ll be forgotten
slowly fading into your background
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
ego finally captured, I’m calm and humbled
the spiral of paranoia is gone
no one hates me, no one’s out to get me
it was a false narrative I created in moments
of madness
it was fake news as I let my emotions
get the better of me and control me
I’ve gained clarity again
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
I punish the men in my life with silence
I learned it from my mom
she’d last days without saying a word to my dad
after a fight
always waited until he broke down and apologized
she always needed to win
and while I’m not as brutal as her
I need to protect myself when a man makes me feel
like I’m not good enough, like I’m a monster
so I walk away calm and give a silence so deafening
they’re ask a million questions why
they’ll search answers in between the lines
of the posts I write
and if they’re smart enough and get the hint,
they’ll stay away from me
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
it found me on a tuesday afternoon, inspiration for a book
a poetry book of sorts telling my life story
and while this has happened many times
I pray this one sticks because I have all of my material
in my google docs
at the very least, it’s given me inspiration as to where
to go next
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
it’s the hunger games time again
I meant the MET Gala
where celebrities show off their ostentatious
and grotesque expensive outfits
while the majority of us are trying
to make sure all of the bills are paid,
wondering if we do indeed deserve our weekly treat
at starbucks, while some of us are being deported
to countries we don’t belong to
or that we don’t remember for the sole crime
of being brown and having the right documents
it’s the hunger games time again
oh I meant the MET Gala
and of course we’re shocked Sabrina
didn’t wear pants and that Rihanna is pregnant again
even though half a world away in Gaza,
moms are burying their children,
that’s if they’re lucky to find them under the rubble
and the Good Ole USA is on it’s way
to becoming a Nazi state and half of us
are in a cult devoted to Trump while the other half
are struggling and unsure of where
to look for comfort, for reprieve from all
of the fires burning
I wrote this poem in May of 2025.
drama always finds me
and I don’t know why that is
even as I try to keep my head low
and walk around humble
I still get caught up in telenovela moments
i never ask to be a part of
and the best I can do is make poetry out of it
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
like the first steps taken after an invasive and life changing surgery
like the victory dinner after the termination of a marriage
that never should have happened
like the first drive alone after beating a 15 year driving phobia
like the child graduating at the top 10 percent of his class
even though the odds were stacked against him
like the rainbow child born after enduring the nightmare
of losing one
like still being here and writing a poem about storms and rainbows
even though many times you’ve been tempted by thanatos whispers to end it
some storms are worth the rainbows that come after them
because rainbows are hope, magic, and joy that make a life worth living
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
saliva drips from my month as a gentle desire overtakes me
tacos de carne asada with onions and cilantro in front of me
he knew exactly how to start melting the jaded and bitter bitch in me
he knew how to lure out the romantic in me who’s terrified to start anew
and while to some it may seem like a simple gesture
he knew that to me it meant everything
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
I keep trying to write my next chapter of love and find my next ex
but this time it’s difficult and tricky
since I’m not desperate, I’m not crazy and I have standards
and I don’t automatically swipe right on 10 out of 10 face card,
I really observe where they stand on important issues
like will they make the main and only romantic protagonist
in their life?
will they fetichize me like I’m some cute, sexy, and exotic little thing?
are they the kind of person to cheer if anyone in my family gets deported
so many things to ponder about as I try to find my next ex
perhaps, I’m overthinking this and should try to not be so picky
then again, I know how quickly the romantic in me cling to someone
the minute I feel chemistry, the minute they feel like home to me
only for me to break apart catastrophically when it all comes crashing down
nah, I can’t let that happen ever again
so this time around, it’s best to be strategic and think logically to myself
rule with my head instead of my heart
I wrote a poem in April of 2025.
Sharks from the screen come alive
and devour my heart
i lose all sense of time
and place
who am i?
where am i?
Is this a nightmare?
everything become nonsense
in between
of another before
and AFTER!
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I summon success and wealth
I summon good energy
I summon letting go of unhealthy patterns
I summon a life without grief and strife
I wrote this poem in April of 2025.
horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I’m both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldn’t even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I can’t even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I can’t imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment
horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability
Life on the BPD 