
Happy Halloween! What’s scarier than a regular bitch?


For the English version of the poem, click on the link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/08/04/poetry-i-hate-to-whine/
No quiero quejarme
pero desperdiciaste mi tiempo
no pensΓ© que fueras otro canalla
o que me dejarΓas con un hueco tan profundo
Es un dolor constante y tremendo
tu cara manipuladora estΓ‘ grabada en mi mente
No quiero quejarme
pero estaba buscando una seΓ±al
que tu eras mi alma gemela
Y no otra persona que me llenarΓa con odio
Que tu eras el hombre de mis sueΓ±os
No otro hombre que romperΓa mi cordura
I wrote this in 2009 about Brad.

Rejection
Is an interruption
Of the infatuation
I felt towards you
Rejection
Is a profound sadness
With a river of tears
That flows down my cheeks
Rejection
Is a broken promise
You made
That breaks my heart
Along with the rest of me
Rejection
Is the start of learning
Who you are
Behind the facade
Of infatuation
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/10/02/eliza-conquers-heartbreak-poetry-edition-2/
Espero, espero, y espero por tu llamada
para oΓr que mi soledad fue una pesadilla
Espero, espero, y espero que aparezcas en mi puerta
para decirme que todavΓa me deseas
Espero por tu carta por correo
diciΓ©ndome que me echas de menos
I wrote in December of 2012 when I was amidst a great depression.

Recognizing the triggers of
My depression is one of
The hardest things I have to do
Itβs when Iβm silent
Wishing all the bad things
Would go away
Itβs when I stop listening
To music
Itβs when I struggle
To open my eyes
And face another dreadful day
Here is the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: So You
Lo siento por ti
piensas que has ganado
pero serΓ‘s otra mujer usada
crees que te ama
pero es una de sus mentiras
piensas que el es tu prΓncipe azul
pero tu dignidad parara en el suelo
tienes un canalla y mentiroso a tu lado
que te dejarΓ‘ con un mal sabor en tu boca
no digo esto porque te tengo envidia
es una advertencia
para que no acabes como mi
otra de sus muchas mujeres
que el trate como una muΓ±eca de trapo
I wrote this in 2009 when I was feeling contemplative about life.

Horizon
The horizon stretches out before me
In a limitless manner
I see a future but am unsure
Of which path to walk towards
Everything is a blank slate to me
Undefined by my indecision
The moment I choose
Is the moment Iβll become
Something, anything
Than the nothingness
That I am
The horizon stretches out before me
Offering everything and nothing
Offering this or that
Offering a wasted life
Or a meaningful one
The horizon stretches out before me
And I need to stop
My hesitation
And become a person of actions
And do something, anything
So the horizon is not wasted
Here’s the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/13/poetry-same-old-ugly-song/
Pensaba que tu amor era como sueΓ±o celestial
me sentΓa bendecida
pero te volviste en una pesadilla infernal
y aprendΓ de nuevo
que tu eras otra canciΓ³n melancΓ³lico
otro inΓΊtil mΓ‘s
mi amor se volviΓ³ en un mar de odio
me di cuenta muy tarde
Que estaba ciega
a que me estabas usando
y me lleno con un fuego de furia
Me hundΓ en una arena movediza de amargura
Desafortunadamente todavΓa me acuerdo
de nuestro amor y tu ternura
pero tΓΊ arruinaste eso cuando te fuiste con ella
OjalΓ‘ que te quedes con ella
porque ahora soy un nunca en tu vida
Quiero olvidarme de todo los que fuimos
porque estoy mejor sola que mal acompaΓ±ada
tengo que aceptar la mentira que tu fuistes
tengo que aceptar que tu fuistes
otra canciΓ³n melancΓ³lica
I wrote this poem in 2008. One the BPD traits is feeling restless and oh my, I feel this a lot. Sometimes it’s for a few hours, sometimes it’s for a few days and I write about it.

Restlessness lies in
my mind at
night and does
not go away
easily. It invades
my thoughts and
questions me.
Will it ever go
away or will I
become insane?
Here is the English Version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/29/poetry-lies/
TenΓas puesto tu disfraz de prΓncipe azul
para que me queda contigo
Fingiste amarme
Fingiste apreciarme
y yo me creΓ el cuento
que me estabas contando
Y te amΓ© y tΓΊ te volviste mi adicciΓ³n
pero todo era una mentira
y ahora estoy llena de remordimientos
I wrote this in 2007 when I transferred to a 4 year University. It was a rough experience.

I feel small in this enormous and elitist world
it doesnβt seem like I will ever fit
It only seems like a perfect fit
for my younger, blonder, whiter,
and younger counterparts
Older, hispanic, and poor is not acceptable here.
Should I even try ?
When Iβm destined for failure on this institutionβs steps
Failure on the steps is what I feel here-
a place where my browner, poorer self
feels like an outcast, an undesirable- by the eyes of prejudice
I wrote this poem in late 2007 when I was depressed about my life. Again, instead of going to therapy, I just wrote a poem about it. Lol.

Tainted dreams
of life is what
I have left.
A career of abstract
nothingness lies
before me.
Chaotic and sensitive off springs
I must put before me.
Frigidity and
senility in my
marital bed lie
next to me.
Is this it? Is this
what is left
of my
foolish childhood dreams.
Scattered dreams
in my past
become failures
of my present.
Will my soul
ever recuperate
from the cost?
Will I ever be that
hopeful again?