Author’s Note: Terms matter. Words have deeper meanings than letters strung together for a common understanding. Language affects the very way humans perceive the world. That’s why everyone (including myself) should learn a new language vastly different than our native tongues — who knows what we could unlock!
“Dissociative symptoms are common in Borderline Personality Disorder, including memory loss (dissociative amnesia) for certain time periods, events, and people.” [Source]
Memory loss was called:
Reach in somewhere,
Yank it forward.
THAT IS NOT IT.
Continue reading “Not Forgotten, Hidden | 9 BPD Symptoms: Dissociative Amnesia”
Author’s Note: This poem addresses a lesbian community topic of femmes and butches. These terms are exclusively used by lesbians for specific purposes, but not all lesbians use them. Personally, I use “femme” and “lipstick lesbian.” This poem uses the term “tomboy” (mainstream use for straight girls) and “butch” (subculture use for masculine-presenting lesbians).
Resources explaining / discussing femme and butch lesbian subcultures.
IMPORTANT: Do not misinterpret “femme” and “butch” to decide: “Who’s the man and who’s the woman?” THAT IS NOT WHAT THOSE TERMS MEAN. There are plenty of femme–femme (aka me and my future wife) and butch–butch relationships.
“I think the world of you…”
Begins the Facebook message.
I have not read the rest.
Continue reading “Femme vs. Butch | Internalized Homophobia Poetry Therapy”
[This poem addresses an ongoing issue within queer inter-communities. Straight people: Please read if you are interested, but also realize you won’t have cultural context.]
After my coming out, all the responses from my bisexual friends were incredibly powerful. I felt so much love towards them — but then…guilt? I was confused, why was I feeling guilty? All the memories I had with these bisexual friends were happy ones, not trauma! I meditated about it and immediate free-wrote the below poem.
As a lesbian, I want to make this clear: Historically, our community has not been welcoming to bisexual women. This needs to stop. This needs to stop now.
I cannot ask that you, bisexual women, forgive me for my past. But you deserve an apology.
I love bisexual women. But there was a time when I didn’t.
I was jealous of them.
So I wrote a poem about it. . .
Continue reading “Apology to Bisexual Women | Lesbian & Queer Community Issue”
To be honest,
You scared me.
You were the perfect Mormon example.
You were everything I wanted to be,
Everything I — needed to be.
So I chose to walk behind you,
Hoping you’d show me the way.
Show me how to be a good Mormon,
How to be a good heterosexual girl.
How to be good at all. . .
Continue reading “Dear Perfect Mormon | Internalized-Homophobia Poetry Therapy”
Brand new to adulthood.
Brand new to college.
Brand new to bisexuality.*
When you caught my eye,
I was not looking for friendship.
I remember feeling startled —
You took my breath away.
So I left my new roommate,
And I follow you to the elevator…
You laughed at something dumb I said.
Did you realize you had a grip on me?
You held the power in our friendship?
Congrats Z — you were the first,
The one & only,
Close friend I ever fell for.
To be fair to my poor lesbian heart,
You were exactly my type,
And I never wanted friendship.
Continue reading “My College Freshman Crush | 9 BPD Symptoms: Idolization & Devaluation”
Spanish word meaning: “twin sister”
I love you.
You are like a sister to me.
Not “like” a sister,
What could I do?
What could I say?
How could I stop them?
Tell them we aren’t a threat to them?
We aren’t immoral demons from below?
Explain why they’re taught to hate us?
How could I tell them,
When they wouldn’t hear me?
How would I tell them,
When I couldn’t breathe?
How could I tell them when they openly mocked my people?
How could I tell them when they openly debated my rights?
How could I tell them when they openly beat him into submission?
Should I have screamed over their taunting?
Forced myself between them and the Faggot?
So the Dyke can be tortured as well?
Continue reading “What Could a Young Lesbian Do? | Homophobia Poem”
I could write a million stanzas,
And still not convey what I mean.
“If you want to know me,
Read my poetry.”
Is that it? Is that all?
Do you know me now?
Perhaps you know me as much as you can,
From a one-sided conversation.
What’s the point of it, then?
Of poetry, or the written word at all?
When it’s one person speaking,
And another one listening along?
Is that a human connection?
One person listens to another.
Is that the reason we write?
Or is it just the start?
No actual thoughts in my adolescent diaries,
Only what happened during my day.
All so boring,
What happened at school,
What happened at church,
What happened at work,
What happened at home.
Nothing on my thoughts.
“Your thoughts are normal, no need to keep track.”
Nothing on what I want from life.
“Your life won’t last long, no need to fantasize.”
I don’t care what happened during my day,
I care about what I felt during my day.
But I didn’t write it down,
Writing it down makes it real.