escribi este poema en Julio del 2021.
Mordiste la manzana y ahora no sabes como parar
ahora soy tu adicción nueva
no puedes parar de pensar en mi
casi estás obsesionado conmigo
porque soy una mujer inolvidable y poderosa
y sientes algo conmigo que no sientes con otras
y por eso siempre, siempre regresas a mi
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
The romantic in me riots and protests and says
this solitary confinement is bullshit
It’s been over a year since we’ve been intimate
with anyone
or felt a romantic connection
and I try to reason with her
“We’re still healing
and we like to stay emotionally regulated
and healthy”
and she yells, “no it’s time to take all
of our therapy skills out for test drive
and find someone we vibe with’
And I answer, “but we’re not”
And she screams, “stop with your excuses
go find the next muse of our poetry”
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
Trust in love is a concept lost to me
I can’t imagine giving my heart to anyone else
I can’t imagine being vulnerable with anyone else
and it’s insanity to keep allowing myself to trust and love
when all I do is lose, lose, lose
I don’t know how to cope when a love song stops
while I’m still dancing
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
the tragedy of my anxiety is that I overthink things
until I sabotage everything
and while I’ve worked on this for a couple of years
I still have problems when good things happen to me
It’s the demon of insecurity coming back to fuck with me
who wants me to fulfill my self fulfilling prophecy of defeat
I wrote this poem in July of 2022.
When I fall in love, I lose control, and I lose my power
and it’s painful
because now I have someone to lose
and I don’t deal with loss very well ever
and suddenly I’m all about them, them, them
be understanding, be sweet, be accepting
Be everything
I’ll go to the depths of hell and back for them
but most of the time, they won’t even cross the street for me
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I gave the middle finger to love for a few reasons
I like to stay emotionally regulated
I like to not be on the brink of suicidal ideation
Every other week
I needed to find out who I was
without anyone distracting me
And for once in my life
I needed to make myself a priority
I wrote this poem in July of 2021.
Seeds of resentment and anger creeps up in my throat
Men who claim to care and love me just want to control me
And me, well i’m just a weak thing, a rag doll
To be used at their convenience,
Be a nice girl, be a good girl, be a sweet girl
Work hard and play by the rules of their game
Be kind, be submissive, be sexy
Seeds of resentment and anger creeps up in my throat
And I want to be burn them all down
With my actions, with my words, with a tweet
I can’t be controlled or stay submissive
For I am too powerful, too crazy, too opinionated
To be tied to this illusion and false idea
They want to have of me
I am a bitch, a vixen, a bad ass
I own my sexuality, my independence, my life
And no one, no one can ever own m
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
My bones did not bend back to how they used to be
after you left, they hardened, became dense
and formed a circle around my heart
And every time I try to soften them
to allow the potential of a new love in
it stubbornly refuses to soften a single bit
no matter how amazing that new potential may be
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Suelo pensar en lo que pudo ser
porque todavia pienso en ti,
porque todavia sueño contigo
porque quizas todavia te amo
pero ya no importa porque ahora eres
Parte de mi pasado
Porque eres un capitulo cerrado
en mi libro de desamor y amor
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
my exes get off easy when they leave
because they never hear from me
and while they become the muse of my poetry
I pretend they exist in a different universe
at times I’ve even pretended some of them were dead
none of this was ever done with ill intent
it’s just the only way I know how to deal
with catastrophic heartbreak
I’d rather close their chapter in my life indefinitely
than deal with some pseudo friendship
and it seems cruel and harsh
In the long run, I’m doing them a favor
Sparing them from me hurting them
in an unexpected explosion of emotions
when I can’t reign my rage in
even in the end, I’m still protecting them
out of respect for the love we once shared
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Como es ella, la que escogiste, la que quieres
la que ocupa mi sitio en tu corazón
¿le llamas princesa también?
¿Le llamas el amor de tu vida?
Le llamas angel?
Ojala que ella pueda apreciarte y pueda ser la mujer sumisa
que tu deseas porque tu mereces alguien que te traiga calma
y no una mujer caótica como yo
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I don’t recognize the woman I was two years ago
and I’m most grateful for that
always dependant and clingy
always insecure, always settling for the trifles of attention
given to her by men
and never confident to share who she really was
always suffocating her needs and wants for the benefit of others
the woman I was two years ago didn’t know
the magical and powerful creature she was
and how even despite her issues
she was a heroine in the making
escribí este poema en julio del 2022.
Cuando me respondiste en una forma desdeñosamente
Casi me morí
Casi perdí la esperanza y la fe
Pensé que me merecía como me trataste-
pense que fui una estupida por gastar mi tiempo contigo
pero después de un tiempo me di cuenta
que tu tambien tenías tus inseguridades
es verdad que yo tenía mis problemas
Pero usted señor también tenía las suyas
I wrote this poem in July of 2023.
I’m trying my best to find gratitude for this trauma anniversary
trying to let go of that catastrophic day
trying to quell the anger, rage, and grief, my body kept score of
it’s going to be a day of triggers and emotional dysregulation
it’s going to be a day where traumatic memories take up space in my mind
and body
the best I can do it try to take comfort that every year it gets easier
And some day it will be unimportant
that someday I’ll find a way to write about this day without breaking down
that someday I’ll forget that this day meant anything
but today I’m acknowledging one of the worst days of my life
honoring the rollercoaster of emotions that still comes up
and make me want to vomit
and find compassion for myself and the person
who drove me from the edge of my sanity
escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.
Perdí mi razón porque me quitaste tu amor
Perdí mis ganas de vivir cuando te fuistes
Pedía que la muerte me lleve para no sentir
el más profundo dolor dentro de mi
me sentia que me hundia en una arena movediza
de amargura y furia
y no encontraba nada para sacarme
Life on the BPD 