I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was feeling nostalgic about my ex boyfriend A after I had a dream about him. That love story is actually super complicated but that’s another blog post.
This another poem inspired about the great breakup of 2001. I probably wrote this when it first happened. My sense of reality is shook up after a break up and it feels like a never ending nightmare that I’ll never wake up from after it happens. This doesn’t happen with every break up…just the ones that really affect me.
Waiting
So I wait for the phone to ring To hear you say this loneliness has all been a horrible dream So I wait for you to show up at my door To tell me you can’t stand being away from me no more So I wait for your love letter in my mailbox To begin getting back together
I wrote this in 2004 and revised it recently. It’s not based on anything from real life.
hard truth
They’re driving back from the theater. All evening he’s been quiet and she wonders what is going on. She reaches for his hand but he won’t give it to her. She tries to look into his eyes and he looks away.She can feel him cold and distant. She no longer recognizes what is supposed to be “them”. With tears in her eyes, she says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing.” he says as he’s still evading her eyes.
“Do you still love me?” she asks with a quivering voice.
“I’m sorry.I’m in love with someone else. It’s nothing you did. These things happen, I hope–
“STOP!” she yells. She’s barely holding it together at this point.
“I’m really sorry, I just want to-”
“STOP! I’m done with this. Stop the car.” she screams at him.
“You’re being crazy, at least let me-”
“NO. I want nothing from you! Stop the car NOW!”
“You need to calm — he stops mid sentence as he sees her taking off her seat belt and unlocking the door. He stops the car. He says, “I just want–”
“Fuck what you want” she says as she gets out of the car.
“But I-”
“There is nothing left to say”. She tells him. She walks away while she cries and laughs.She whispers to herself “fuck.once again”.
I wrote this in 2007 about my husband. I was frustrated that he was always so guarded with his emotions and his past. I hated that I could give him my vulnerability and he couldn’t give me his. Looking back now, I should have realized how incompatible we were at the time, but my stubborn and optimistic self wanted things to badly work.
I wrote this in 2003 about Damon who I was seeing again.
Your strange ways confuse me One moment you hold me in your arms The next moment you want someone else in your arms Do you want to break our amorous ties? Was the love you professed another one of your lies?
Rising from a deep sleep That had become our marital bed Passion woke up In a sudden caress Of your rough hands On my soft bare back Your eyes shone on me again With that long lost stare Desire Our long lost friend Is back To reclaim us From our endlessly deep and dreamless sleep
I wrote this in 2006 when I was remember the days of my youth.
always remember that…
Young and Dumb
My mind tries to fight
What my heart wants to write
About being young and dumb
You’d think I’ve moved on
But it doesn’t happen
And my paper is dampened
With words about being sixteen
And doing many sinful things
Getting drunk and hooking up
Was my beginner’s luck
But I still had plenty of luck
Being young and so dumb
My pen and paper will have to settle
For not knowing any better
I wrote this in 2006 about my husband and my husband were in a good place…meaning we were having sex again after taking a break for several months from it. I tend to place a lot of importance of sex in a relationship and well…if that’s lacking, I get bored and depressed in the relationship.
bewitched by passion
For once desire and passion
Has entered our lives once again
And the pieces start to fall perfectly
In our lives again.
Is this a dream or just another short lived memory?
He runs his hand through my back and it’s like
Electrical wires going through my body and it turns on
I wrote this poem in fall of 2005 when I was feeling overwhelmed by my responsibilities of being a mother, a girlfriend, a student and a worker. As usual at that time, I took on too much and was trying to be everything to everyone. One trait of BPD that I’ve carried throughout the years is over extending myself sometimes to my detriment in order to make other people happy.
Life on the BPD 