
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/2021/12/15/poetry-scared/

Tengo miedo
que de nuevo se rompa
mi corazón
Estoy preocupado que algún día
me pares de amar
Estoy cansada después
de tantos mentirosos
tengo cuidado que de no
convertirme en una idiota
otra vez
I wrote this is 2006 for my creative writing class.

Dressed up in lace
She gets into his car
He drives away in haste.
She’ll never go far
On this path to nowhere
Her life becomes tar.
Doesn’t seem to care
That she is treated so rough
With a life so unfair
Is she a black dove?
Or just a drug addict?
Did she ever know love?
What made her so damn sick?
Why don’t I understand?
What made her so chaotic
Man after man
All for another fix
From the candy man.
For the English version of this poem, click on the link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/20/poem-racist-jerk/

Querido, lo que dijiste
me partió el alma
nunca pensé que eras un racista
no se si te pueda perdonar
quedarme contigo mataría mi alma
Lamento haberte conocido
Y me duele decirte
Tenemos que terminar
Nuestro cuento de amor
Te deseo lo mejor
Ojalá que algún día
Dejas tus prejuicios atrás
Day 7 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “Crystal Tears”

I wrote this poem in 2006 when I was in the midst of my quarter life crisis.

There was once a place
It was my happy place
But it forever disappeared
When puberty appeared
Now I live somewhere else
Where almost everything fails
Where there are no more giggles
And everyone is fickle
Where being sad
Is the fad
And no one cares
About anyone else
What I would give
To get away from this
And go back to
Where no one is rude
And everyone smiles
And no one is a liar
I wrote this poem in 2006 when my mother-in-law passed away. She was an incredibly kind and lovely person.

She flew one afternoon without warning
leaving us in a state of grief and mourning
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
And now everyone left behind
Has rivers running from their eyes
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
Regrets and remorse
Has 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?

I wrote this poem in late 2005 when I was going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids.
Trapped in a maze
Not knowing where to go
Gotta get out of this place
Before becoming conformity’s whore
A maze with traps
Like kids and responsibilities
It’s all getting too suffocating
And I can’t breathe
For the English version of this poem, click on the link below:
Poetry: That Night
Escribí este poema en 1997 inspirada por la noche que conocí al padre biológico de mi primer hijo. Tengo una forma extrema de idealizar a mi pareja al principio de una relación.

Aquella noche
Tomaste mis manos sudadas en las tuyas
Y mi corazón latió rápido y furiosamente
Aquella noche
Me hundí en tus ojos profundos y sinceros
Y supe que eras un amor verdadero
Aquella noche
Me abrazaste fuerte
me hiciste sentir que todo era posible
Aquella noche
besaste mi cuello gentilmente
Y besaste mis labios con un ardor único
Aquella noche
Me enseñaste tu amor
y hiciste parar el tiempo
Aquella noche
Encontré todo lo que estuve buscando
en tus brazos
I wrote this inspired by the first time I met Andrew. I think I kept on thinking about him and getting nostalgic because I was so carefree and happy when I was with him.

Not a boy but not yet a man
He took my sweaty hand
Dancing was his aim
Andrew was his name
And with his clown feet
He showed me moves so weak
And an excuse I was about to invent
But then the moment went
And that was our when
the slow music started to lure
strong emotions started to brew
Innocent love soon ensued
I was his world, he was mine
We were the most perfect rhyme
But then reality hit
A truth we couldn’t beat
And even though I’ve moved on
It’s Andrew, I’ll always yearn for
I wrote this in 2006 thinking back on my time with Lucas.

A shadow of our friendship
is all there is left
After life gets in the way
of wanting something more
And when I see you around
A wave, a nod
An acknowledgement we once knew
Each other
Our conversations are now long gone
But we’re forever etched in each
other’s minds and dreams
I wrote this poem in 2002 about my oldest son’s bio dad. I had a lot of angry emotions about how he abandoned him.

A license to create is what shouldn’t
Be given to those who don’t know how to
Appreciate their child’s laughter
Or comfort their high pitch cries
A license to create is what shouldn’t
Be given to those who don’t understand
What it takes to be an example to
Those that descend from them
A license to create is what shouldn’t
Be given to those who leave children
In the dust to follow their own desires
Without looking back on their offspring’s
sad little face that whimpers,
“Daddy, come back”
I wrote this in 2006 when me and my husband were in this monotonous routine of kids, work, and school. I felt lonely in our relationship and it was hard for me to express it to him.

It’s frustrating
Living like this
Without desire or passion
The only thing that’s left for us
Is to leave from here
This everlasting ocean of loneliness
In which we are drowning
And separately swim to the shore
of happiness
Where we both belong
I wrote this poem in late 2005 thinking back on how I felt about my second pregnancy when I found out. It wasn’t an ideal situation at all because I was still in college and my relationship with my husband was on the rocks.

This can’t be
happening to me!
but rarely does it ever lie,
that second pink line
Just when I was on right track
Again I am burdened for lying on my back
What will I do?
Who will I turn to?
How do I tell them?
Once again I am their biggest disappointment
To just sit here and cry
is just a waste of precious time
I have no choice
I have to get away from this awful noise
This will become my personal hell
Because of another persuasive male