I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
on days like today when the world hurts
and i can’t stop doom scrolling reminding me
that everything is burning
I put down my phone, pause and breathe
and ground myself in my friendships
which are a reminder of love to me
which are a reminder that no matter what happens
in this world, I have people to hold space for me
which are a reminder of hope
and because of that
I can keep on going
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
looking back on my tbr list from 2016 I think
-pretentious much-
it feels like it was a different person
who added 600 something books to goodreads
because now I don’t have any interest
in most of these books
in fact, most of these books that I once
wanted to read would now bore me to tears
maybe in 2016, I thought reading books
about philosophy and history would make me smart
enough for those I thought as evolved
and now it just disgusts me
now,I’d rather stick to poetry and interesting stories
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I had fallen in love with brown and hazel eyes
Before the disaster with blue eyes walked into my life
Those blue eyes would make me believe in love again
Those blue eyes would be the first to make me want to die of shame and guilt
and cause more trauma than he ever intended
Then again, I was only twenty
and there were a dozen years between us
he should have known better than to fuck
with a girl who was barely a woman
but carnal desire ruled both him and I
And we were tricked thinking it was love
but we were completely wrong
and he got to walk away without any consequences
While I was slut shamed and had to endure the trauma
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me
as I sing out my guts to lyrics
that reminds me of you
the worst of my ideas,
the worst of my crimes
I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me
hoping that this is the last bit of closure
I need from you
and that from now on
we’ll both live our lives free and clear
of each other
and soon our toxic love affair fades into
the background of my memory
and soon you stop showing up
in my dreams
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
Implied I was a heretic because of my tarot cards
told me I should look up some verse in the bible
that validates your suspicion that I’m breaking bread
with the devil
because of esoteric tendencies
the funny and ironic thing in your lecture
is my tarot cards never harmed me or made me feel
Worthless
and the nearest I came to living with devil energy
is the man you look at when you look in the mirror
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
while our friendship has been various shades of gray
I’d never imagined that one day it’d turn black
without an explanation
leaving me alone to find closure
leaving me in tears to find acceptance
and understanding that somehow our friendship
wasn’t meant to be
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
like ships in the night during a catastrophic storm
we crashed and wrecked
never saw the end coming, it just happened
one day we were, the next day we weren’t
while we were completely destroyed
and suffered like never before
at end of it all,
we can say
we became better for it
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
when no one is watching I manifest a new lover-
I’m tired of solitude, I’m tired of crying from loneliness
so I dream about him, I write about him
and I pray that he appears
and while I tell myself it’s ok if he doesn’t exist
and it’s just one of my many silly dreams
secretly I want him to become a reality
I just want to know what it’s like for once
to be loved and accepted for the complicated
Woman that I am
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
a beauty so timeless men still flock to her
in her middle age
despite society’s conditioning that women
past 40 are past the expiration date
for sexual appeal
what was it about her that she was catnip to men?
Well, she was honest upfront about the thing
people don’t like to talk about
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I want to be just like you, so confident, so carefree
you never allow responsibility guilt you or bring you down
So I mirrored and mirrored you leaving my old self behind
wanting to free myself from the chains off my husband and kids
I wanna be fun, I wanna be sexy
let me fuck whoever I want
and I try but it never makes me happy
it was like jumping continuously on a trampoline of self destruction
sabotaging my chances at happiness, at success
at true self awareness
and one day the trampoline broke along with me
and I picked up my broken pieces
Dismissed the distractions and my need for validation
and I learned not to mirror you or anyone else
I finally found comfort and love in my own skin
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
when someone blocks me, I wonder what was the last straw
was is some irreverent post I posted
some salty poem on my blog that offended them
something stupid I said
most of the time I simply let it go and understand
I’m not for everyone but when it’s someone
I considered a friend, I’m stumped
because I thought friends were supposed to talk
things out when conflict occurs
I thought friends were supposed to give each other
Space when they screw up
But I guess in this instance, I must have done something
so unforgivable, so horrible, I didn’t deserve a warning
Before being blocked
And now there’s nothing I can do
I have to accept this was just a season of friendship
and move on
I’ll never know what I did wrong
and he’ll never know how he wrecked me
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
you look lost in your thoughts
is there something wrong, something I did-
what’s on your mind that makes you silent and sad
tell me what’s going on-
so I can help lessen your burden
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
A giant pink bow comes apart and disintegrates
and my female ancestors and all of the women
on my timeline cry
tears of rage, tears of grief
we know it’s the beginning of the end
on this gloomy november day
Soon we’ll be relegated to second class citizens
soon some of us will immigrate to other countries
so we don’t end up like handmaidens
I wrote this poem in November of 2022.
I wish I could forgive everyone who did me harm-
but something in me won’t allow me too
maybe it’s unprocessed trauma that still wants to speak-
about every single atrocity I’ve experienced
at the hands of those who said
they care for me and love me
I really wish I was better than this-
constantly holding onto these old grudges
but something in me still needs to heal
so I can stop obsessing about revenge
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
it’s election day and I feel numb and empty
I doubt my vote made a difference
in my swing state
but at least I made my voice heard
for the lesser evil
Life on the BPD 