Poetry: Reborn

I wrote this in late 2007 as I reflecting about my life and how much I had changed.

The nostalgic ocean

reminds me of

everything that 

I’ve lost.

Former flames, former friends

swept in a 

wave from under me.

My former self

died in that wave.

When the wave

came back…

I was stronger 

and better.

I was reborn again.

Poetry: Ghost of Mamacita

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.

The ghost of my grandmother 

  hangs above me 

Her spirit swallows and 

  Envelops me-

It tells me to live

  a life full of passion and love

Without self imposed boundaries

It tells me to stop 

 being afraid of my promise 

  and potential

  and takes risks and 

  Go for my dreams

  No matter how many 

    obstacles stand in my way

It tells me that I only 

 have one life left to live

And I need to start 

living it fully instead

 of standing on the sidelines

Waiting for something or someone 

to rescue me

It tells me 

Stop waiting

Now it’s your turn

Poetry: Independence Day (a love poem)

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.

Me in the Summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

I’m finally free 

Of the spell 

You have over me

I’m finally free

Of the butterflies 

I felt when I saw your text

I’m no longer blinded

By your callous ways

I will no longer tolerate

Your undercover mistreatment

I can no longer be part of

My continuing self destruction

I’ve learned to stay away

From the intensity of your gaze

I’ve learned to love myself enough

To stop holding on to your false love

I’ve learned to stop ruining my life..

Because of our connection?

Our chemistry?

Nah, it’s just bomb ass sex. 

I’ve learned that my self worth 

Can’t be tied to you, my toxic lover

My self worth

Is tied into my self love

Into loving the best parts 

And the worst parts of me

But most of all I’ve learned 

That no amount of orgasms

Or passionate kisses

Or sparks 

Are worth me agonizing 

Once again

If I’m good enough

Reflection: Mr.Toxic is well not Toxic

So it’s no secret if you have been reading my blog that I have been calling the guy that I’ve 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, I’m not excusing his behavior that at times has been detrimental to me and has made me feel unsafe BUT I realized the other day-he’s 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, I’ve 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 he’s forgiven me time again and time again. I’m not proud or saying that I deserve the shitty way he’s treated but I have to admit that I’ve 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. I’m 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 it’s 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 doesn’t 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 won’t 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 I’m done doing that. It’s 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 

us in late 2018

Poetry: She Flew

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.

She flew one afternoon without warning

To a place unknown 

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

And now everyone left behind 

has  puddles dripping from their eyes

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

Regrets and remorse

Have become our two worlds

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

No fancy words could ever express

How it feels to lose your best

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

Poetry: Don’t

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.

Don’t even try to understand me

You don’t even know me

I was born with your DNA

But to you, I have nothing to say

I once was a babe, a boy

And now a man

Don’t pretend to give a damn

I’ve done grown up to become

A man unlike you that doesn’t run

No thanks to you β€œDad” 

You left when I was a mere ladΒ 

So please go on on your way

I can’t stand the sight of you

Another day

Poetry: In the ICU

I wrote this poem in 2018 when my grandmother passed away. She was in the ICU for about a week before she passed and it was tough on the family.

Me with my Grandmother in 2015 or 2016

She lies between this world and the next

She can’t decide between her husband 

 Or her kids 

She is tired, she is drained, she is 94

She lies between this world and the next

She needs to let her body decide a final rest

But her spirit wants to stay 

withinIn the cocoon of her family

She lies between this world and the next

She slowly feels her ancient and battered body 

Give up…. 

It is tired of the endless pain

And her spirit

slowly agrees

And 

Lets her leave in peace to the heaven that is him

Poetry: Another Pathetic Guy

I wrote this funny poem after a really bad date in 2001. I was obviously very salty at the time.

I write the same pathetic poem

  about another pathetic guy

From the first conversation 

  you didn’t seem to have an ounce of promise

  With your arrogant way of talking

but I decided to give you a chance anyways

But little would I know

  how you would try to make me feel

 Like some ignorant ho

Little would I know

I would enjoy your landlord’s company

  more than your own

Never had I seen 

  how arrogant somebody could be

Never had I felt 

  such repulse towards a male

Never will I see

  a future between you and me

Poetry: The Jungle Part 2

I wrote this about the PULSE club shooting in 2016.

Everyone claims thoughts and prayers

For those they sprouted 

Hatred against (just a few days ago)

Only because of their untimely 

Deaths.

If they had gone 

On living -they would 

Have continued to be 

Hated by most–

Now they are loved 

And remembered and

Prayed for in the their death 

Because they are dead.

It’s too late for you

Prayers warriors, you

Religious zealots and

bigots , your prayers 

And love falls on 

Angry ears, ears of 

The victims families , ears 

Of their loved ones, ears

Of the LATINX,Puerto Rican, 

LGBTQ Community

People who weren’t  

Given two fucks about 

Or treated with hatred 

Because your Bible told 

You so. 

Poetry: Soulmate

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 I’m with someone who might be the one
Who is to me all the things you couldn’t be
I don’t want to hurt you but I feel nothing for you
And you might get pissed I need to say this
I don’t love you anymore,
So there’s the door
if you really love me so,you would let me go
For it’s too late, I’ve found my soulmate

Poetry : I Hate to Whine

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 go slash his tires. Lol.

me at age 20

I hate to whine
but you were a waste of time
I didn’t think you were such a creep
and that I could feel a heartache so deep
It’s 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 who’d fill me with hate
That you were the man of my dreams
Not another man who’d break my sanity’s seams

Poem: What is Said

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

What do you say

when you fall out of love

with that special somebody?

How do you explain 

that they no longer have your heart?

What do you do

when you see the hurtful expression 

on their face?

As you tell him,

you’re no longer his to hold.

How can you live after

 causing so much pain?

Eliza Conquers Writer’s Block: Poetry Edition

Emotional Nonsense

I try to write words
that smoothly flow
But they don’t 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