“You haven’t met the right guy.”
“How’d you know you don’t like it,
If you have never tried it?”
“Sexuality is fluid.”
“Everyone’s a little bit gay.”
“You weren’t born like that.”
“Someone must have hurt you.”
“But I could turn you straight.”
Continue reading ““You Don’t Look Like a Lesbian””
Ever since I held my pain,
Twisting it to poetry,
I have never been the same…
Expressive arts therapy,
“Sorry, that doesn’t sound real.”
Writing poetry about illness,
A silliness with nothing to lose.
Continue reading “Pain into Poetry”
Not ev’ry tree is covered,
Only the brave show themselves.
Entering stage four of their cycle,
Preceding the peak bloom of tourists.
A cloud of blossoms lasts but days,
To return anew a year later.
Continue reading “First Bloom of Spring”
A poem began to form as I fell asleep,
I was too exhausted to write it down,
Instead it ebbed and flowed on by.
Even as unconsciousness took me,
I tried to grasp onto the stanzas,
While they withdrew inside the vault.
Continue reading “No Poem November”
Her memory takes hold,
When I never held her.
Magnetism drew us together,
Palpable at first encounter.
Our obstructive accompaniment,
Could never survive either’s journey.
Does nothing for the heart.
Continue reading “When Borderline Meets a Narcissist”
Whenever August 1st comes around,
“It’s the beginning of Birthday Month!”
I’d play along to a certain extent,
More times than not I’d also tease,
“People only get one birthday,
No one gets an entire month!”
Continue reading “In Defense of “Birthday Month””
If only I would’ve been stupid,
It would’ve been unable to hide.
If therapists could’ve read my mind,
The diagnosis would’ve been easy.
Those 10 years of decay,
My symptoms were right there,
Finally reached the surface.
I’m not stupid,
But I was lifeless.
Continue reading “I’m Crazy, Not Stupid | Living with BPD”
As my teacher explained God’s plan,
I remember these specific thoughts:
“That’s not me, I’m not in Heaven,
Why aren’t two married girls there?”
Prior to my initial homophobic trauma at 4 years old,
I had to have known I was exclusively attracted to girls,
Otherwise it would not have been severely traumatic.
So I must have known prior to it,
Even right before that moment,
But what was the actual feeling?
Continue reading “How I Knew I Was a Lesbian at 4 Years Old”
You can’t hear my words,
You can’t sing along to the tune,
You can’t listen for comfort in isolation.
You can’t watch my words,
You can’t view the imagery,
You can’t see descriptions as distraction.
Continue reading “What’s the Purpose of Poetry?”