I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
I’m ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay
shared over awkward getting to know you conversations
with no expectations to put out
I’ll be a completely different woman when I’m dating again
a woman selective about who allows near her
a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention
from the wrong men
I saw him in a new light-
In the light of the most intoxicating feelings of love
I didn’t want to at all-
But he made it all so easy-
Loving him is like breathing
I went from a bitter and depressed woman
filled with constant existential dread
to this new woman filled
with laughter and hope–
Maybe just maybe his love
cured the pessimist in me
Maybe just maybe his love
Changed me
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
a glass of champagne in my hand as I raise a toast
who I used to be
a woman mentally ill and needy
a woman who gave men easy access to her hips
a woman who thought intimacy could only be created
and felt in between her sheets
we say goodbye to the his woman lovingly
as we usher a new era of me
a woman who knows her worth
and won’t settle of anything less
than she deserves
There is a border around you
Cemented with callousness
Every now and then
I see glimpses of good-
Within you
But only on the nights
When you are drunk and lonely
Only the nights
When you want my skin
To cover yours
You give me orgasms
And sweet compliments
And fill me up with lies-
And the day after
Your border is closed
Its impenetrable
So hard to break through
So hard to keep loving you
So I give up
Every time I TRY
To chisel a little at it
My heart hurts
and breaks a little more
So I”ll stop trying to break through
No matter how happy you make me
For a few hours
You’re not worth
Days, weeks, and months
Of misery
escribi este poema en mayo del 2024.
soy la poeta maldita del siglo 21
atormentada, depresiva, dramatica,
salvaje, sin vergüenza, obsesionada
con la muerte
y las poetas malditas de siglos
antepasados
soy la peor pesadilla de esta sociedad
machista
me vestiré con un aire rosado y dulce
pero de mi boca saldrá una energía
feminista y salvaje
y me valdrá madre incomodar a la gente
y no me importara del “que dirán”
y por eso me consideran
una arma maldita y peligrosa
en la sociedad
Again and again and again
-I let you back in
You take me in passionately
and intensely
And without thinking
I’m back in your arms
And for the briefest of moments
I believe you love me
Loneliness makes one blind
To the sad reality
You just like the convenience of my hips
Lust makes one blind
To the hard truth
You just like to use
The warmth of my body
To covers yours
At your leisure
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
I look forward to the day when I’m no longer known as the writer with BPD
when I no longer make my mental illness a part of my brand
when I’m no longer dependent on my ex husband
and antipsychotics to survive
when I finally start to resemble something like a normal person
and not the vehement emotional mess I usually am
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
I wanted to kill my sex drive so I stopped taking buspar
and while my sex drive has finally waned
the side effects are slowly killing me
between the mental fog, the constant headaches,
the nausea followed by the loss of appetite
there’s a reason they tell you to wean slowly
from psychiatric drugs, to do it under the care
of a medical provider
stopping cold turkey lends to a spiral of madness
and a physical ailment I never intended
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
three years ago, I was dealing with the most chaotic move of my life
never thought my new home would see the death of me
the princess who moved in
and the resurrection of the queen I was about to become
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
saw you and knew right away there wouldn’t be a second date
thought I made that apparent enough at the end
but 3 years later you send me a snap to ask me
if I’m still interested
Sorry
but the woman you met is no longer who I used to be
maybe you had a chance with her
but the new me-she’s careful who she gives access to
the new me has cut off any strings left
from the old life the old me use to live
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
waited for you at the bar as I downed a margarita
anxiety and anticipation sat in my belly
wondering if I could be your dream girl
wondering if this time you’d kiss me
Wondering if there would ever come a day
I’d regret meeting you
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
everytime you disappear, I lose an ounce
of the fondness and affection I hold for you
this last time,I didn’t even notice
I thought, good for him
he found someone else to stroke his ego
and validate him
but here you are again
everything I once felt for you
has dried out
and I have nothing left to say
as you try to nonchalantly come back into my life
I’m filled with indifference this time
holding onto my new sense of empowerment
careful to not again fall under your spell
once again
I am intoxicated
by his desire for me
He seems to accept who I am–
Wrinkles and craziness and all
and he doesn’t try to change me
He makes me feel valued
and appreciated and
that I matter in his life
Being with him fills me
with happiness, peace
and a joy I’ve never known
and for the first time
my heart isn’t filled
With anxiousness
of whether I’m good enough.
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
brown eyes
scorpio energy
takes my hand
I’m in trouble
warm rush of emotions
Unsurvivable
I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable
Life on the BPD 