I wrote this in May of 2002 about Lucas. I was missing him and feeling nostalgic about him. It was hard because while we were still keeping in touch via email, we hardly saw each other.
It’s almost always like that
I tried to escape the thought of you But it follows me wherever I go Your scent, your voice, your kiss Always remains fresh on my mind No matter how long itβs been Even if I try my hardest To live without you I somehow end up again Trapped in the caged memory that was your love
I wrote this poem in June of 2002 and almost 20 years later, I still have the same questions. Lol. At this point, I don’t know if I’ll ever know what romantic love and that’s okay. My life is filled with all kinds of different love that I’m not focused on finding romantic love or really care to.
if only
I want to write about love but do I really know what it is Is it a certain look? Or a certain action? Is it caring for someoneβs happiness more than your own? Or is it being with the one that makes you crazy and your heart race with the sound of their voice? What is love?
I wrote this in early 2002 about my married coworker Lucas. I remember going out to lunch with him one day and writing this poem about it the next day.
yeah, it felt that intense
As I look upon him with my dopey love eyes I wonder how he would feel next to me at this exact moment As we are listening to this song and looking at each other at this very moment I wonder what his exact feelings are Maybe itβs something I can never know or feel for sure but this moment with him is something I can forever cherish
I wrote this in 2002 about my ex Andrew whom I dated briefly in 1997/1998. Well, we’ll call him the first Andrew because I love to recycle names. Lol. I had a tendency to get nostalgic about because the love and infatuation I felt for him was really, really intense. Also, our story was kind of crazy in its own right but that’s another blogpost. I’ll just say that I idealize him and placed him on a pedestal for many, many years after we broke up.
so true
I think of you tonight More than I do on most nights Listening to this melancholic song Brings back all of those precious moments With you in my mind When we were each otherβs whole world And nothing or no one else mattered except you and I And I wonder if I ever run through that beautiful mind of yours Or if I ever reached your heart if even for the briefest moment
I wrote this in 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. It kind of sucks that this situation happened BUT at least I got some salty poetry out of it. Lol.
triggered
Hey Mr.Donor man How does it feel to have your son Learn you never wanted to come That you talked big shit and never meant any of it That no matter how hard I tried for him you never wanted to be a daddy to him That you were so fucking lame You couldnβt even give him your last name That to you, his mom was just good fun That youβre a fucking coward you never dared to be his father Donβt worry though Heβll always have my love And without you, heβll be just fine One day Iβll meet a man who is kind Who will love him and I and will want us in his life Whoβll be glad to take the place of The man who couldnβt give us love Who will come to his defense when things get tense Who will stick around And wonβt bring him down Who will finally be The dad you never wanted to be
I wrote this in February 2002 about my first baby daddy. He had started to be in contact with when he got the child support order. I obviously had a lot of residual resentment and trauma and blamed him for losing part of adolescence.
monsters that leave you with trauma
She was the girl you left behind with nothing but a baby and a desperate hope to keep her alive
She was innocent, naive, and untouched until the night she fell into your sexy scent, your empowering embrace, and a world full of promises She trusted, believed, and dreamed
Thanks to your unexpected departure that naive girl you left behind blossomed into a woman of depth, strength and wisdom beyond her 21 years She will lust but she canβt ever love She wants to trust but finds herself full of doubt She wishes to fill herself with guilt and morals but has learned to have no scruples
So donβt try to come back and expect her to believe in your crocodile tears or your most insincere apologies that girl you left behind Grew up into a woman at a surreal speed thanks to you
I wrote this in 2002. It was one of those moments when I was having one of those moments where my self esteem was high and I was like fuck love, I’m awesome by myself.
me in 2002 when I wrote this poem
She is not that woman who needs a man She alone fulfills her dreams Without him, her face still beamsme
She is not that beauty chick Who has all the men at her feet Sheβs got something else When the world of beauty fails
She is not that pushover girl Submissive with the golden curls Sheβs got her own mind Love is not worth her time
She is not that Ms.Prom Queen Who wants an engagement ring A husband she could care less about Sheβd rather not take that life route
I wrote this in early January 2002 about some random dude I was talking to online. I never met the dude that inspired this poem.
sometimes I’m both
So you want to meet soon? I wonder why You say because I sound Sexy and great But should I take another chance And end up with another horrible waste of a man who will regard me as just another good fuck Or maybe Iβm being too cynical And you for once will be Mr.Right What I know is that I couldnβt stand again being a fad
I’m not sure which ex I wrote this about but this is the general feeling I have when a relationship is going well. My anxiety goes up and I catastrophized. This was written in 2000.
I am scared That my heart will tear I am worried One day youβll be sorry Iβm so frightened Itβs just a matter of when I am just tired After so many liars My mind is stuck Thinking you just want to fuck I am careful Trying to not end up a fool
I wrote this in 2001 about the great breakup of 2001. This is the last poem I wrote about this relationship. One of the aspects that I was hyper focused on during this breakup was being cheated on. Another reason, I flew into a rage was because “S” ex wife would not stop calling me after the breakup. It got to the point I had to change my phone number. She wasn’t exactly mean, I think she was trying to reach out as a fellow victim of “S” deception and wanted someone to process the pain with but I wanted no part of it. It felt too raw and painful for me at the time for me. And she wasn’t the only that called me about “S” cheating on me, there had been another chick by the name of Mariah. Also, the other part was that me and “S” communicated via email after the breakup for a few days just to fight about everything and place blame on each other. Emotions were really high not just on my part but for everyone involved. Also, this situation brought up triggers from my previous relationship with Paul. There are the reasons I went into a rage and ended up writing more than 40 poems about a 6 week long relationship.Reflecting on this now at 40, I can honestly say that I did process and heal from that breakup when it happened. I mean I did write like more than 40 poems about but maybe it’s what I needed to do at the time. I also don’t hold a grudge about “S” or his ex or anyone involved. Everyone was in their early 20s and we were all trying to do our best at that time and maybe our best looks shitty to other people.
maybe we were all counterfeits
You two were made for each other Like the sun was made to be hot To you I was just another toy To play with, But once the newness wore off You decided to go back to Your old comfortable teddy bear Unfortunately old habits are hard to break
Maybe I am the girl version of Joe Goldberg after all. LMAO. Of course, this was written about the great breakup of 2001.
Maybe I am sad finding out you were such a cad Maybe I am blue Knowing you were never true Maybe I was too blind to see you werenβt really into me Maybe I was a fool To never have seen past your bull Maybe I am done With guys like you using me for fun Maybe just maybe I can get past all this Knowing one day youβll have to pay for this
This was the second poem I wrote in December of 2001 inspired after seeing my ex “S” at the mall. I was still feeling all of those raw emotions after this breakup when I wrote this. Looking back on it, I’m glad that at the time, I took my emotions out on paper instead of finding other means of escape with alcohol or someone else.
There you were In front of me My love murderer I wanted to yell and scream and say You are the most deceitful, lying, scum king I wanted to throw at you my fist with all my might And punch those lips I had once kissed I wanted to kill you with a look that said You bastard, look at how much you took away from me Instead, I had to walk away and take back with me All I wanted to do or say
I wrote this in 2001 about the great breakup. Looking back at this I almost BUT I’m glad that at the time I was resourceful enough to turn to write poetry instead of doing more self destructive things. My favorite phrase from my 20 year old self is “low scum ho”. Damn, I was salty. LMAO.
Thank you for letting me know I was with some low scum ho Thank you for making me see He was just using you and me Thank you for making me realize My lover was just telling me lies Thank you for driving me into this misery I really thought he cared for only me But most of all, Thank you for taking this burden off me he didnβt deserve someone as good as me
I wrote this in 2001 about my ex Paul after he broke up with me via email after a couple of months dating. This is the last of the poems about Paul. Here is my blog post about my story with him:
I wrote this poem in 2002 about Brad, my former friend who lied to me for about a decade. Before I wrote this poem, we had met up maybe once and fooled around. After that, I tried to make it go back to a platonic friendship but he kept pressuring me for more.
I feel so fucking bad My dear friend Brad I know that you were displeased I never meant for to think I was a tease But I can no longer be that girl That doesnβt know her worth And is okay with being a βgood layβ Sorry for not being able to be your booty call Itβs just that I have learned That if I want respect I have to be firm I hope youβll forgive me and understand And we can again be friends and hang