Escribi este poema en Marzo de 2003 cuando estuve visitando Hawaii y pensaba en mi pasado.
Estoy en el mismo lugar
donde era una adolecente inmadura,
Impulsiva, e insegura
pero ahora soy otra
Una que piensa antes de arriesgar
una que mirar antes de pisar
Una que trata de olvidar
Antes de contemplar todo
lo que no fue de su vida
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?
So I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was dating my husband and maybe I was foreshadowing my future with him (sort of-haha). I think that maybe I was paranoid he had someone else at the time because he was such a private person. Reflecting on this now is kind of strange because I was the one that ended up with the indiscretions. I was 22 when I wrote this and I have I think that this is a good example of “splitting” meaning that I went to black and white thinking about him.
FALSE FAIRY TALE
Everyone believes that you and I
are the real deal
That we are perfect
and don’t have issues
Little do they know
that you treat me with no worth
That to you
I am not your only girl
That I close my eyes and ears
and deny to myself the fact
That your indiscretions are real
that you just used me as a tool
To have everyone fooled
That you have the perfect wife
And you are the perfect husband
but I am too tired of this
False fairy tale
I have to get out of this lie
Before I lose what’s important
for the sake of your arrogance
So tonight I leave our once “happy” home
so I won’t lose
All that’s left of me
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?
I wrote this in January of 2004 when I first started dating my husband. The age difference between caused a real uproar in both of our families and my friends.
I don’t want us to be ruined
By outside influences
Those people who are in disbelief
that you could fall for somebody
As plain and unimpressive as me
Those people that are jealous
of our unconditional love
And can’t stand to think
One day you’ll give me a ring
I wrote this in June of 2003, it wasn’t inspired by anything in my real life. Sometimes I have these crazy scenarios come up in my head and for better or worse I write a poem or story about it.
After making love to him for the first time
I lie there and wonder
How I am so fortunate
to have fallen in love
With a wonderful man
Who loves and cherishes me like no other
And then I leave and I forgot something
I come back
I’m across the street
and I see a woman come out
of my boyfriend’s house
and to my astonishment
It was someone that I used to know
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.
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
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”
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
