Aqui esta version en Espanol de este poema:
Poesia: Moriste Para Mi
You were another mistake made
another one I’m throwing in the land of the forgotten
another one who couldn’t appreciate the rare and precious gem
that I am
another one who’ll inspire poetry about how my heart broke once again
by trusting the wrong man
I wrote this in July of 2022.
Morning rain makes me want to lay longer in bed
and listen to music and cry
cry about everything that could have been
but instead I get up and start my day
even try to get excited about it
because if I give in to my depression
for even one day
my inner critic wins
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
I cloak myself in compassion and empathy with family and friends
but when it comes to myself-
I criticize and judge and tell myself I’m not worth it
But it’s time to turn this narrative around
I’m done, done, done
with being a self-loathing clown
and using self-deprecating humor doesn’t help me
it hinders my creativity and stops me
from unlocking the potential within
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Father Son Mile
por el bien estar de nuestro hijo tenemos que olvidar todo lo que alguna vez fuimos
tu tienes que asumir tu responsabilidad y yo tengo que dejar el pasado en paz
hay que empezar de nuevo y declarar una tregua
Hay que perdonarnos y convertirnos en los padres que el merece que seamos
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
love is a magnet for my insanity
love is a magnet for feeling worthless
love is magnet for everything wrong in me
so I locked the door to my heart with a padlock
and threw away the key
I can’t trust myself again to risk my vulnerability
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
Delusion is believing this time it will be different ,it’s believing he’s not like the others and really gets you
It’s believing him when he tells you he loves you
when you know how this story always ends
Everything will be fine until one day it’s not
and within a few days
You go from lovers to strangers
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
The cure for a broken soul is finding love and validation
within yourself
It’s finding beauty in the ordinary
It’s finding joy in the mundane moments of life
The cure for a broken soul is finding faith and hope
in the most trying of times
and accepting the darkness within you is temporary
and not everything deserves your energy
The cure for a broken soul is acceptance and love
from the universe, the source and God
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
I’m making amends with lovers and friends who’ve hurt me
holding this much resentment in feels heavy
And I’m tired of being a slave to past grudges
it feels like an eternal emotional blockage
So I’m filled with empathy and forgiveness
For those who’ve made me feel worthless
Because enough is really enough
and I’m tired of being fueled by hate
I wanna now be fueled by love
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Do I sabotage every love dream
because I’m insane and have BPD?
Or is it the men I pick who easily give up on me
when they can’t save me
Maybe I’ll put this love thing on hold for a while
to enjoy my newfound tranquility-
to focus on my emotional stability
because every time I try to love someone
I end up fucking things up
And it’s not fair to me or them
to make them love an emotional and reckless trainwreck
who never knows when she’s gonna break
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
Could you spare me some validation and affection,
so I can feel like a real person?
I thrive on the love and attention of lovers
I don’t know how to feel whole or enough by myself
And admitting it is so embarrassing
But wait, don’t go…
Fuck it! I’m done with this life of dishonesty
here comes my brutal truth-sorry if it bothers you
but I’m done reigning it in for the comfort of others
I’m clingy and melodramatic with emotional warts and all
and even though my truth scares off everybody
At least now I’m free to embrace and love the real me
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
put me on a pedestal and watch how quickly I fall
for saying no to you
For standing up for myself
for making myself heard
You’ll cry foul and wonder, where did my dream girl go?
but don’t you see-
I wasn’t made for altars and pedestals
I was made for thrones
A throne where I know my worth
A throne where I’m valued
A throne where I’m appreciated as a whole person
and not just seen as an object as affection and masturbation
So quit seeing me as a saint or angel
and understand I’m a chaotic queen
Here is the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: To My Baby Daddy
mis palabras te caeran como un balde de agua fría
pero tengo que desahogarme-no puedo seguir tragándome
tanto dolor y rencor
quiero que te olvides de él, por favor-
tu presencia causa conflicto y confusión
tu presencia abre una herida del cual yo recién me estaba curando
además los dos sabemos que no vienes para quedarte para siempre
solo estas aquí para limpiar tu conciencia que no te deja dormir
y te llena de remordimientos retrasados
I wrote this poem in June of 2022.
my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
should pay rent for the immense space
they take up in my mind
they crowd me and make me question
my worth on my low days
they show up with intrusive thought saying
I’m not good enough
or I don’t deserve my wonderful life
my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
Constantly try to bring me down
and sometimes even my affirmations
aren’t enough
Here is the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Thoughts
regresas para decirme que no puedes parar de pensar en mi
que todavía me extrañas, que cometiste un error al rompernos
y todo lo que alguna vez sentí por ti vuelve a la superficie
y quiero cerrar los ojos y correr a tus brazos
y empezar un nuevo cuento de amor contigo
pero la razón interviene, y mi dignidad regresa
al acordarme del infierno que viví cuando te fuiste
y te digo
“perdoname, pero no puedo cometer el mismo error denuevo”
,
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Remorseful Sentiments
de nuevo arruine todo
no fue mi intención-siempre empiezo tan bonito
pero por alguna razón siempre destruyo mi paraiso de amor
Está vez él no podía esperar para libersarse de mi-
será que en realidad soy demaciado
o los hombres que escojo no son suficiente?
Life on the BPD 