Poetry: Refusal

I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was pregnant with my second child and mad at my boyfriend (future husband) for his lack of affection and attention to me. I was obviously very upset when I wrote this poem and instead of talking to him I wrote and bottled up my anger.

You refuse to see

All the hurt you’re causing me

With your indifferent ways

It’s a miracle you haven’t yet gone astray

You refuse to see

Our son is paying the fee

He may still be in my belly

But the tears you cause me

Also affect him

You refuse to see

That one day soon you’ll lose me 

If you don’t stop 

Being so fucking cold. 

Poetry: My Pride and Joy

I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.

me and my oldest in 2003

You’re a wonderful mistake

I never want to unmake

I was young and stupid

a kid having another kid

but with you I finally grew up

and learned the meaning of love

You are everything a mother could want

Such an admirable and fine son

you are my pride and joy

you will always be my little boy

And I will dread the day

When you have to go away

But I take relief in knowing

You’ll know how to spread your wings

And you will always remember

who you once were

A wonderful mistake

Your mom never wanted to unmake

Perhaps a creation of lust

but one who never lacked love

Poetry: Poor and Destitute

I wrote this in 2004 inspired by a rough family situation I was going through at the time. I needed to process what was happening in some way because I couldn’t confront the person. And well, I wrote this narrative poem.

Poor and destitute

in front of me she stood

asking for shelter and food

with tears streaming down her cheek

she kept on repeating

“let me stay with you tonight,

I promise, one day I’ll make things right”

I didn’t know what to do

for a while I just stood

trying to decide

if what I was about to do was right

so with pain in my heart

I had to say

“please go away”

she tried to resist

by giving me a guilt trip

and I  told her once again

“please go away”

she still wouldn’t listen 

and made me listen to her reasons

this time I lost control 

and yelled at her to

“PLEASE GO AWAY

IF YOU DON’T WANT ME 

TO GO CRAZY”

this time she listened to me

maybe she does care for me

it hurt to turn her away

but I couldn’t be swayed

to feel sorry for her

and allow her

to ruin my world

so in the end

this was the dreadful when

I would have to decide 

between saving her or me 

Poetry: Caught Between

I wrote this 2001 when I took a break from writing angry breakup poetry-lol. As an immigrant that grew up here, I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life. Issues with identity are also another trait of BPD. I think this was a time in my life when I was especially reflecting on this part of my identity because I was become aware that men were fetishizing me.

me in 2001 around the time I wrote this poem

Caught between two worlds
what am I made up of more
hopefully I won’t ever have to choose
sometimes I wish to just cut loose

Too Latina for the American side
Too Americanizada for the Latino side
So what is the politically correct term for someone like me?
Not American, not born here
Not fully Latina either
for I lack that latin allure

So I’ll call myself one of a kind
a girl with much Latin beauty and an American mind
like a delicious half and half cream
whose taste is an amazing mixed dream

Poetry: Dear Son

I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was frustrated with Matt and blamed him for my life going awry. Looking back, it was misplaced blame on a situation that only I had control over. At the time, it was much easier to blame Matt rather than take a look at myself and how I was responsible for the mess I made of my life.

Dear son

How do I stop

from feeling all of this resentment and anger

at the deadbeat who calls himself your dad?

Dear son

Will I ever feel better

about our almost dead-end situation

your dad has put us in?

Dear son

Will you ever forgive me

for not having everything

someone as wonderful as you should have?

Dear son

Can you show me where to

find a glimmer of hope

and that without him

 both of us will be alright?

Poetry: Puppet

I wrote this in January of 2004 when things were good with my husband but I was already having lots of anxiety about our relationship.

Why couldn’t he see 

that him and I were meant to be?

Why couldn’t he say

that I was more than part 

of his wild phase?

Why couldn’t I be all he wanted

instead of sending my heart 

to its deathbed?

I will never love again!

Why couldn’t I see right through him-

Instead I let him pull me like a puppet

on a string

Why couldn’t he see that me and him

would make sense as a we?

Poetry: To the Man I Can Never Have

I wrote this in 2003 about Lucas. I was again obsessing about him.

Everyday I think about you more and more
My heart can’t help itself
I close my eyes for a brief second
and your wonderful and attached self
is what my mind sees.
I catch myself missing you
and it doesn’t make sense to miss something
I never really had.
You did something to me
without having to do anything.
Maybe you accidentally put a spell on me .
I still can’t figure out why you,
Mr.Forbidden has become
my new unrequited love obsession
Maybe love really does come
out of the least expected place
Or maybe I will always
Desire the one that I can’t have.

Poetry: Sponge

I wrote this in May of 2003 when I was going wrestling with a terrible bout of depression. I kept trying to find the light of the end of the tunnel but it was hard.

A sponge is what I am as I start
to absorb this mortifying
and painful experience
From a sponge I become
A meatloaf of frustration
From a meatloaf I become
A tall and full glass of self pity and regret
From the tall and full glass I’m trying
Very hard to become a hard rock of acceptance

Poetry: When Something Bad Happens

I wrote this in May of 2003 when one of my close friends had a miscarriage.

It’s so funny and ironic
When something bad happens
most people says things
Like “it’s God’s way”
or the famous
“Whatever doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger”
It makes you wonder if there
are actual people out there
who would say,
“It’s okay to be mad at God’s way”
or
“It’s alright to be weak instead of strong”
or that it’s perfectly fine to scream out loud
“FUCK THE WORLD”
If there is a least one person like this,
I want them to become my new “best friend”

Poetry: Bad Place

I wrote this in April of 2002 when I was depressed and felt empty. Chronic feelings of emptiness is a trait of living with BPD. It’s rough sometimes.

I’m at a very bad place
I struggle and struggle
to come out of this miserable and horrible place
But somehow feel confined
With a helluva strong glue
at the bottom of my pitiful feel
Stuck to the pit of here( my life)
I continue to
Dream and dream
The impossible dream
To someday become unstuck

Poetry: Home

I wrote this in March of 2003 when I went back to Hawaii. I had a lot of conflicting feelings about this trip.

Waikiki Beach

I’m back here
Where it all started
A place I once called home
But now I’m not so sure
I always wonder if I should’ve stayed
But now I see why I had to go away
It is filled with both
Beautiful memories
of the loved ones I left behind
And ugly memories
of the ones that left me behind
when I needed them the most
I don’t regret coming back
Because it’s what I needed
In order to heal and move on
from you my past, and let you go

Poetry: Sadness

I wrote this in May of 2003 when I was depressed. At the time, I didn’t think about getting help. I also didn’t understand what was happening to me. No one knew because I had become a master as masking my emotions. Instead poetry was my therapy.

depression is rough

The sadness creeps up on me
like a wild animal
upon its prey
Slowly but surely
I become all too quickly
Miserable again
I ponder the question
Why, why, WHY?
I am young and healthy
Yet I begin to feel
like I’m slipping on thin ice
and what scares me the most
is
I DON”T KNOW WHY?

Poetry: Memory

This was another poem I wrote about the first Andrew in early 2003. I think I was dreaming about him a lot and got inspired. I think at the time I kept returning to this past memory of love because I wanted to hold on to the hope that someone like the first Andrew was out there for me.

The memory of you visits me
And a realization washes over me
You were the light in the dark tunnel
in my then hopeless life
You were the song in my heart
That I can’t stop seem to stop playing
Now matter how loud the music
Of my new life tries to drown you out

Poetry: Pathetic Games

I wrote this in January of 2003 about John. Maybe he tried to come back to be an FWB and I got mad and that’s what inspired this poem.

Never

Why do you continue to be
such an asshole to me?
With your pathetic games
you make yourself look lame
You expect me to sit around and wait for you
whenever it’s fucking convenient for you
but I guess this is my fault
for letting us almost fuck
So now I have to tell you something
I will no longer be your fucking fling
So start to forget
that we ever met
Go on your merry away
and stay away
for i am lot more
than an on call whore