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Legacy

Daily writing prompt
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
View all responses

me in January performing this poem

I’m used to being the ultimate pushover-
allowing the energy of others to pollute
my energy and take up my time
It was the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn
be easy to get along with and always avoiding conflict,
I’d become the person they’d want me to be,
cutting away pieces of my authenticity-
I’d become easy to digest and swallow
I never valued myself or put myself first
It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family
Internalized misogyny sold to me at a young age
dressed up as selfless acts of love
but I’m done sacrificing myself for others
It’s time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being
I refuse to pass this down to the next generation
of woman who come after me
I’m here to take up space, roar like a lioness
and pass down a new legacy of self love
that took me 41 years too long to discover

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Poetry: The Princess and The Queen

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

The princess and the queen live within me
And they each serve a purpose
the princess cares about the men in her life
She’s soft and submissive, kind and generous
She’ll do anything for love, she’s loyal
But sometimes the princess get taken advantage of
And the queen steps in
The queen is determined, she is strong and opinionated
And ambitchous and bossy
She’ll do anything to protect herself and her kids
and gives zero fucks about anyone else
And lately I’m trying to find a perfect balance
of embracing these two beings who live within me

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Poetry: Some Days

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

Some days I can’t deal with the boredom and restless
It all leads to chronic feelings of emptiness
And I asked myself
Is it time for another depression spell?
And I’m annoyed by me, by everything
I attend to whatever I think my brain and my soul needs
Sometimes it’s music, sometimes it’s sunshine
Sometimes it’s writing
Sometimes nothing appeases the Gods of BPD
And I just to deal with my emotional instability
I wish for at least a week of tranquility within
Instead of a pendulum of ever changing mood swings
When will I finally get calm and peace?

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Poetry: War

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

Old insecurities come to visit me again,
they shake up my newly acquired confidence
they tell me I’m not smart enough and I’ll never be truly loved
They tell me the only thing I have going for me is how sexy I can be
Otherwise I’m a waste of a person because of my bpd
And I try to shut it all down and not once again drown
Because I have made so much progress and have come so far
Only to once again fight an anxiety and depression war
but it’s daunting and exhausting not to let the negativity get to me
So here I go once again, trying to calm down my brain
from negative and intrusive thoughts by covering myself with self-love

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Poetry: Overturning Roe vs Wade

I wrote this in May of 2022.

facts

Overturning my right to choose feels like a slap to my face
it is my american dream of liberty turned into a nightmare
of reproductive imprisonment
because of my 3 unplanned pregnancies, because of my 4 IUDs
birth control pills and a patch
because I am a woman scared for my niece, for my future granddaughters
scared for the generations of women who come after me
and I sit here at a complete loss for words and understanding
at a loss for how this could happen
a fundamental right ripped from right before our eyes
while we were distracted with the modernity of society
a fundamental right ripped from us that will take us back to the 1950’s

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I need to slow down but….

Daily writing prompt
What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?
View all responses
2nd job life be like…

I’m constantly working without any breaks or any hints of rest

because I thrive on being productive

I’m happiest when I’m filled with purpose

and I don’t stop  because it keeps me moving forward

it keeps me from not feeling anything

but at  what cost?

my hips and knees scream at me 

and I’m addicted to energy drinks

my mind tells me to slow down, rest, 

and process my emotions

but I’d rather keep hustling, keep moving

rather than to deal with the intensity of my feelings

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Poetry: My Bad Luck

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

People say I shouldn’t give up on love
and it’s really just my bad luck
But how do I explain
How love makes me insane
It’s not the men I pick
It’s really me, me, me
I’ll become the version they want me to be
thinking they’ll stay with me-
behave, swallow my words, hide my anger,
implode on myself in the privacy of my journal
but keep my mask of sweet princess on-
but this never last for long
something always happens
it’s just a matter of when
when will I get tired of hiding who I am
and start being erratic and crazy
When will they get tired of my bullshit
and decided to leave
and almost always, this ends up
as an emotional catastrophe for me
so I’ve come up with a solution
I’m going to make my newfound solitude
a haven, a sanctuary to fall into
give myself as much time as I need
to enjoy the gift on my own company
understanding that this isn’t an ending
but rather a brand new beginning for me
to write and edit my own unconventional love story

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Poetry: Tae Kwon Do Class

I wrote this poem in June of 2022 inspired by my youngest son.

me and my youngest in April of this year

At Tae Kwon Do class my son kicks
with a determined look on his face
It’s strength and resilience inherited from me
and his ancestors
It’s a competitive spirit passed down
generation after generation
from people that had to fight to compete
to survive and it fill me with excitement and pride
because even at ten my son shows traits
from his ancestral warriors

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Poetry: Fighting with My Teenage Son

I wrote this poem in October of 2022 inspired by my middle son.

me and my middle child in March of 2022

Me and my teenage son fight and I regret it the next day
I’ve watched too many people mourn their sons this year
I’ve felt the screams of those close to me
asking God why he took their babies too young
Young men who will never be fathers,
Young men who will never see their children grow up
into rebellious and sassy teens
and while I understand conflicts happens between
parent and child
I also know we’re both on borrowed time
and I don’t want our angry words
to be the last exchange between us
if its his or my last day today

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Poetry: Guilt

I wrote this poem in February of this year inspired by my oldest son.

me and my oldest son in March of this year

the guilt visits me over the mother I should have been
I should have been older, wiser, married
but instead you ended up with an immature teen mom
who read you Stephen King instead of fairy tales
who played you Matchbox Twenty instead of lullabies
who wore you on my hip like a new fashion accessory
who missed the signs early on that you were different
because I was too self absorbed looking for love
but what’s done can’t be undone-
I hope one day you understand
I did the best I could with what I had

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Poetry: What is Love

Happy Mother’s Day! I wrote this poem in April of last year inspired by my sons.

us in May of 2022

finding someone to love used to be a priority
until love burned me one too many times
besides I’ve always had 3 somebodies to love
that always deserved all of my attention
with them I’m never alone
with them there will always be inspiration
with them my love overflows
at this point, it would be useless for anyone to compete
with this complete kind of love

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Poetry: Homework

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

me after walking/running in the rain

In therapy I’m supposed to write about the last thing that cause me grief
and I think it’s funny considering the tons of poetry and journal entries
I’ve written about it
I’m tired of writing about it, I’m tired of talking about it
I’m tired of thinking about it
and I want to tell my therapist I don’t have homework for this week
but this is part of therapy
this is what I need to address the unhealed trauma within
so I’ll write for the 1000th time about the last thing that caused trauma and grief
hoping my therapist will provide valuable insight on how to let go of it

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Happy International Nurse’s Day !

Happy international Nurse’s Day to all the nurses and especially my favorite nurse, my sister. We’ve had a complicated relationship through most of my life but within the past few years, our relationship has gotten a lot better. I have more to say about this but that calls for a longer blog post in the future. Today, I want to honor her for being the awesome human being that she is. Below is a picture of us at a concert we went in July of 2022 and a poem I wrote in December of 2021 when she turned 47.

me and my sister in July of 2022

To My Sister On Her 47th birthday

you’re 3 years away 50
but still look like you’re in your 30’s
Has anyone told you how amazing you are?
Have our parents loved you out loud?

I’ve always admired you for your fortitude and resilience
but wish for you to have peace and an opportunity to be soft

I get it though –
It is hard to be soft in
a society that expects you resemble a tower of strength,
where you take care of everyone first and put yourself last
It was something you had to learn at a young age

you used to be the
Villian in my book at times,
but lately I think of you as the victim
and the victor_

You’re a victim of life-
the victim because of the pressure
you were put under for being the oldest
the victim for being a woman of color
in a racist and sexist society

But you’re also the victor-
the victor never giving up-
no matter how fucked up life got for you
the victor for facing shit head on without any fucks
and with an intimidating confidence (maybe that’s why I was jealous)

oh sister of mine,
on your 47th year-I hope.
you get to sit and enjoy
the wonderful life you’ve created