I wrote this poem about my husband in 2006 when we were in a rut of routine and being parents. I remember thinking how hard it was at the time to reconnect with him.
Long ago…
Passion was lost
Where did it go?
What has it turned into?
Perhaps into comfortable feelings
Of gratitude and friendship
And boring things like that
But how can we find once again?
The long lost passion
That we once had.
I wrote this in the year 2001 after really good sex with my ex Paul. He was 29 and I was 19 at the time. It may have been the first or second time I think. He said to me right afterwards, “Don’t fall in love with me.” Man, I sure know how to pick them. Lol.
He was beautiful
He made love to me with his eyes
He made me melt with the simplest caress
He made me feel like a woman
With his beautiful words and loving touch
We melted together as one
And finally as we reached the end
We knew that as we exploded in the ecstasy
that our lovemaking brought
We are one for the other
And we will be forever
I wrote this poem in early 2006 about my husband. We have always had completely different love languages.
Emotions for you
sway from
Good to bad
Every day
And I wonder
Why “we” can’t ever be
Balanced
Instead of
the disorganized mess
that we are
Pensaba que yo era la única
que ocupaba un sitio en tu corazón
nunca pense que llegaria el momento
que me dirias “ya no te amo”
nunca cruzó en mi mento
que había otra mujer
Pensaba que teniamos mas tiempo
ahora estas en mi estante de imbéciles
For the English version of this poem, click the link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/21/poetry-sea-of-misery/
Estoy aqui ahogandome
en un mar de desgracia
por tu egoísmo
Gracias por tirar me
en un infierno de soledad
Me usaste
como una inútil
Para darte cuenta
lo mucho que amabas a otra
una pesadilla de mentiras,traición, y decepción
estaban detrás de esos besos celestiales
palabras y caricias bonitas
Escribí este poema en 2006 acerca de alguien que me gustaba. Cuando me gusta alguien, me obsesiono con esa persona.
¿No se que es de ti?
Pero tu me robas la razón
¿No se que haces ?
Pero tu me devuelves
La inquietud
¿No se porque?
Pero tu me vuelves
En una adolescente
Y
Me dejas
Sin claridad.
Me describes como algo fresco
porque no soy como las demás
esperate un par de meses
cuando te canses de mi
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.
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
I wrote this in 2006 for my creative writing class.
The horsefly stands on her shrug
Doesn’t notice, doesn’t care
Blankness spilled across her pleasant face
The horsefly stands on her shrug
Not even a crumble of emotion
In her still hands and feet
The horsefly stands on her shrug
No longer is there a distinction
Between her and the marble
The horsefly stands on her shrug
The sun slowly starts to simmer her
As her wires start to show
There is something about you
that I’m attracted to
maybe it’s your laugh
or the way you talk
or maybe how you drive me crazy
when you touch me
I know what it is
You make me feel
EVERYTHING!
Escribí este poema en el 2006 cuando me obsesione con unos de mis compañeros de la universidad.
El hombre con esos intensos ojos negros me tiene embrujada.
Me siento viva cuando me mira, me siento sensual cuando me habla.
Cuántas veces he tratado de no gritar todo lo que me hace sentir.
Algo pasó hoy
Una atracción que siento por él que no se pudo callar.
Me encanta su voz, su piel, y su manera de hablar sin cuidado.
Pero esto es otra de mis ilusiones románticas sin realidad.
I love you
but I hate you
I miss you
but you’re a jerk
I desire you
but your love is awful
I want you here with me
but you make me suffer
I want to kiss you
but you steal my calm
I keep you in my heart
but with you I lose my mind
This is another poem about the bio dad of my oldest son. Obviously I had a lot of anger directed at him that I should have gone to therapy for but instead I just wrote a lot of angry poetry. Ha.
You don’t know him and chances are
You never will
You could’ve been somebody real in his life
But you BLEW IT!
So now is the time to say
Goodbye forever.
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/08/30/poetry-another-pathetic-guy/
escribo otro poema patético
acerca de otra idiota mas
no estaba impresionada
desde la primera conversación
con lo pretencioso que eras
pero todavía decidí en darte
una oportunidad
nunca pensé que me harías
sentir como una ignorante
Nunca sentí tanta repulsión
contra un hombre
Nunca habrá un futuro
entre los dos
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.
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
Life on the BPD 