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Poetry: No Expectations

But I lost it like a promise- Conan Gray

I told myself “no expectations”

“Just use him for a short time”

That’s all he’ll be good for

But his words, his gaze

His hands, his lips

Felt like home the first night

This can’t be happening

This can’t be real 

This isn’t who I want to be with

But my heart wouldn’t listen

To the logic in my head, 

The advice from my friends

I had the first hit and I needed to go back-

I feel like a pathetic drug addict-

I told myself “no expectations”

And yet a year later-

Here we still are in our 

Intense and passionate love affair

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poetry: a snap 3 years later

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

remembering how I posted this snap so the muse of this poem would see it-lol

saw you and knew right away there wouldn’t be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if I’m still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-she’s careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live

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Poem: Healthy is Boring

Healthy is boring

When you only know

pain, strife, and destruction

from those who claim to love you

Healthy is boring

when toxicity and chaos

and insecurity

ruled previous relationships

Healthy is boring

when “love” was a word

that held me hostage

to previous lovers

Healthy is boring 

when for the first time

with a lover 

you feel a sureness

With him 

And you feel like you’re enough

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Poem: Overthinking

I wrote this in August of 2020 when

Thoughts in my head 

 race up and down

Thoughts about 

my mediocre reality

Thoughts about all 

of the failures in my life–

I want it to stop 

 but my brain-

my crazy brain won’t stop

SO I keep thinking

Is it just a matter of time

before he tires of me and leaves?

Will I ever reach that sweet spot 

 of stability and contentment?

Or will I always live this miserable 

  experience of dreadful anxiety?

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poetry: every time

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

once upon a time, I was obsessed with a fuck boi

everytime you disappear, I lose an ounce
of the fondness and affection I hold for you
this last time,I didn’t even notice
I thought, good for him
he found someone else to stroke his ego
and validate him
but here you are again
everything I once felt for you
has dried out
and I have nothing left to say
as you try to nonchalantly come back into my life
I’m filled with indifference this time
holding onto my new sense of empowerment
careful to not again fall under your spell
once again

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Poetry: Intoxicated

I am intoxicated 

  by his desire for me

He seems to accept who I am–

  Wrinkles and craziness and all

  and he doesn’t try to change me

He makes me feel valued 

  and appreciated and 

  that I matter in his life

Being with him fills me 

 with happiness, peace 

 and a joy I’ve never known

and for the first time

my heart isn’t filled 

With anxiousness 

of whether I’m good enough. 

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Poetry: Unsurvivable

Unsurvivable

I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable

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poetry: roadtrip to Tijuana

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

the trip that inspired this poem

never understood why you took us with you
maybe it was to assuage your guilt
maybe it was say you really did nice things
for me and my brother
inviting us to an all day road trip to Tijuana
in your air conditioned Blazer
silent as mice and on our best behavior
to not disturb you, your husband and your son
it was all so strange
the only thing I can remember
was the messiest hamburgers
we needed a hundred napkins to eat
and the picture with the donkey
maybe you were kind and graceful
with us at times
but all of that has been lost with the trauma
you incurred on us I’ve blocked out
and 34 years later in my middle age
sitting in my hot car in between jobs
I still don’t understand why you took
us with you

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Poetry: Blocked

Blocked

Blocked from my phone
Blocked from my world
Blocked from being
The constant chaos
That torpedoes into my life
And fucks things up

If only I could
Block you from my mind
If only I could
Block you from my heart
If only I could
Block you from my dreams

Blocked from mentioning your name
My friends know better

If only I could
Block you from
My poetry and prose

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poetry: can’t let go

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

age 8 before I discovered Mariah Carey

at 9, Mariah Carey taught me to look pretty
even as I’m suffering, even as I’m cast aside
for someone else
even as I’m crying and dying from grief
at 9, Mariah Carey taught me about
all of the lovely and terrible things
that come with falling in love
at 9, Mariah Carey gave me lessons
about life and love
I’ve carried into my middle age

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Poetry: Virus

Virus

Loving you feels like a virus
I’ll never recover from
I lie awake at night
and thoughts of you infect me
I keep saying I want to be cured
of your love disease
that travels from my body
and into my mind
I’ve tried to find the cure
in someone else
But for some reason
your virus is resistant
It won’t go away
no matter what I do
I try hard to stay away
but it’s no use
The virus that is your love
is incurable
Virus

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poetry: fuck spring

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

me trying to enjoy spring while being depressed

shadows of summer’s past came and haunted me
in dreams, in my most intrusive of thoughts
every summer tragedy comes to the surface
in spring
not allowing me to enjoy the may flowers
that are blooming
not allowing the visual poetry of spring
happening right in front of me
panic attacks, crying spells, dissociative episodes
bursts of anxiety and nightmares
that deprive me of sleep, leaving me in a haze
of despair followed by depression
and I end up in a fog of exhaustion I can’t
seem to get rid of