I wrote this poem in 2018 shortly after the death of my maternal grandmother/mamacita. My grandmother lived in a time where her opportunities were very limited by society’s rules about what a woman should be.
I wrote this poem in the summer of 2019 when C had ghosted me for the millionth time and I thought that I was finally done with him and I was determined not to go back with him. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case. This relates to one of my BPD traits which is fear of abandonment. I think one of the reasons I kept letting him come back.
So itβs no secret if you have been reading my blog that I have been calling the guy that Iβve been involved in a tumultuous situationship with- TOXIC. Most of the time, when I describe him to people, I talk about him being terrible, bad, and Toxic. Now, Iβm not excusing his behavior that at times has been detrimental to me and has made me feel unsafe BUT I realized the other day-heβs just a person. He’s a person with many issues and trauma. I had this tendency to blame himΒ for a lot of my issues instead of taking accountability for my part in our toxic situationship.Β I really had to look at myself in an honest way and I realize how easy it is to blame him or make him the villain of our tumultuous situationship. It was easy to write all of this poetry and these journal entries about him about how he treated me like shit. What has not been easy is admitting my own part. Admitting that I had my own toxic patterns andΒ issues that I brought to our situationship. ThatΒ he really showed me who he was at first and instead of really seeing him,I did what I almost always do in relationships;I fell in love with his potential and for the person I wanted him to be. He has ghosted me andΒ broken communication with me so many times and that shit hurt my soul.Β However, Iβve also lied to him and gone crazy on him more times than I can count. I’ve gone to his house for the sole purpose of yelling at him andΒ I lied to him for a year and a 1/2 about the fact that I was in another relationship. And heβs forgiven me time again and time again. Iβm not proud or saying that I deserve the shitty way heβs treated but I have to admit that Iβve been almost equally as shitty to him.Β
Β I would also complain that he’s an alcoholic but guess who often brought him the beer . It was me, I was the enabler. So while it would still be easy to call him toxic or bad I really don’t think he deserves that title. I think that like most of us he’s trying to do his best with his issues and sometimes that best can look shitty to other people. And I don’t want people to think I’m idolizing him. I think that I’m really taking a hard honest look at myself and at him at this point. Iβm trying to make sense and find peace with this situation with him. There is an appeal of going back to him continually and while it has to do with this intense chemistry and the amazing and mind blowing sex; it has to do with much more than that. The other night when I saw him he told me he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere and itβs strange how much I relate to that. Also, we both get how dark we can be, how irrational and crazy we both can be and it doesnβt scare either of us away. We just accept that part without promises or expectations of anything that resembles a relationship or commitment to each other. The other night we both agreed we possibly wonβt ever be ready for a relationship with each other or with other people. We both feel too damaged beyond repair to ever be of any good to anyone in a romantic way. I used to hate myself for caring about him,Β or going back to him BUT Iβm done doing that. Itβs been a long and hard 3 year journey to get here: peace and acceptance.Β Instead, I forgive him and myself for past wrongs and learn to enjoy the fun and crazy times we share.Β Or as my mom says, live for the moment. With him, it really is living life on the borderline.Β Β
I wrote this poem in February of 2006 when my mother in law passed away suddenly. I knew for a short time but she was one of the most gracious and kindest individuals I ever met.
I wrote this poem 2002 and it was yet another poem inspired by the bio dad of my oldest child. For many years. I had so much unresolved rage and anger about how he abandoned my son and used poetry as a way to process it.
I wrote this little gem of a cringy poem in 1996 when my ex boyfriend tried to get back with me when I was already in a relationship with another dude. Sad thing is that when I broke with the dude I was dating, I did go back to my ex and it was terrible. It would be a pattern of relationship choices that would follow into adulthood.
Me with a friend circa 1996
Why did you show up at such a bad time? A time when Iβm with someone who might be the one Who is to me all the things you couldnβt be I donβt want to hurt you but I feel nothing for you And you might get pissed I need to say this I donβt love you anymore, So thereβs the door if you really love me so,you would let me go For itβs too late, Iβve found my soulmate
I wrote this poem in 2001 after a really horrible breakup with the second “S” who cheated on me with ex wife the entire time he was with me. Needless to say, I was super angry about this and being the 20 year old I was at that time included lots of cringy cliches in this poem. The upside to this that at least I didn’t goslash his tires. Lol.
me at age 20
I hate to whine but you were a waste of time I didnβt think you were such a creep and that I could feel a heartache so deep Itβs a profound and constant pain Your devious face is etched in my brain
I hate to whine but I was looking for a sign That you were my soulmate Not someone whoβd fill me with hate That you were the man of my dreams Not another man whoβd break my sanityβs seams
I wrote this poem in 2002 when I was about to break up with this guy “R” that was kind of aggressive and mean to me throughout our relationship. He was also kind of a jerk to my toddler son at the time. Instead of ending things, I ended up cheating on him and eventually ghosting him at a time when he needed me the most. Needless to say, he was pissed and wrote me lots of hate filled emails in CAPS LOCK and colored ink. It was pretty intense. I felt horrible after that.
Me in 2002 with “R” except he’s cropped out of the picture
I try to write words that smoothly flow But they donβt come to me easy Maybe I just suck at poetry But I will keep trying and praying That I will become good at this thing Before I painfully decide To give up this poetic life And on paper try to make some sense of my emotional nonsense