God’s Love

I nurture my soil with love and everything that makes me smile
Excitement stirs inside of me thinking of all my untapped potential
and the poems and stories that are yet to be written
The soil I step in is solid and I am grounded and calm
Is this what’s called God’s love?
Poetry: Halfway through 41
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

Halfway through 41, I am truly alone
no potential love candidates
and sometimes the loneliness threatens to kill my soul-
But I know better than to suffer through another deception
so I process all of my feelings through poetry
Hoping it’s enough to keep the romantic in me
from making another mistake
Poetry: Joe, the Hero
narcissist

no, Susan or Ken, your ex wasn’t a narcissist, they just got tired of your bullshit. honestly, though, we need to stop arm chair diagnosing people with this word. it’s turning into a “catch all term” to make us feel better about ourselves when a relationship ends or we have a fallout with someone. I’ve been accused of it and I’ve accused others of it and it just made things worse. So, yeah, let’s stop using the word “narcissist” unless we are a legit mental health professional or we know for sure that person has been diagnosed as a narcissist.
Poetry: Recovery
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

Insecurities and anxiety from my immigrant childhood
Come out to play and my adult self wants to run away
I thought I was healed from this
I hate these triggers—but I still confront them even if I don’t want to
I cry and write about them, reprocess something not quite healed
Am I on the way to my recovery from BPD?
Poetry: Con
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

the facade of equality is cloaked in good intentions and lovely words-
and while laws have been passed to prevent discrimination
and to try to level the game of success,
it’s all a sham, it’s all a con
we still live in a world where the color of your skin and social status
and gender determine your prosperity
Poetry: Did You?
Poetry: 5 AM
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

At 5 am, I woke up and wrote a 4 page poem
about how I wasn’t enough and proceeded to crash my car
and my therapist asked if I wanted to die-
And I was like “nah, I just couldn’t reign my impulsivity in”
at least this time I got control of the car and didn’t fuck
anyone else up
Poetry: Potential
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

I used to water my roots with the supposed love of others
their compliments, their energy made me whole
but eventually they’d tired of being my water, my earth
my everything and leave
And I was left once again incomplete-
until one day I learned to water my roots with my tears,
my strength, my self-love
And now my growth and potential are infinite
Poetry: Favorite Words
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

My favorite words are my sons names
names that taught me about patience
and unconditional love
names that have made me get up
when I didn’t want to
names that fill me with faith and hope
when I’m about to lose it
names that make me want to become
a better person than I was yesterday
names I live for
names I would die for
Wasting my time

Which activities make you lose track of time?
Poetry: The Coffin
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
Poetry: Magnet
Poetry: Delusion
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.

Delusion is believing this time it will be different ,it’s believing he’s not like the others and really gets you
It’s believing him when he tells you he loves you
when you know how this story always ends
Everything will be fine until one day it’s not
and within a few days
You go from lovers to strangers




