Jun 14 Alex
emma l
i put my eggs on the bottom of all my groceries.
i did it last time, and i'll do it again,
and i'll still act shocked when i open the carton and they've fallen apart.
i'll watch devastatingly as the yolk slips through my fingers;
i'll mourn for the money lost, mourn for the eggshells on my kitchen counter.

breakfast is the healthiest meal of the day, and mine is spread across my kitchen floor.
everyone walks on eggshells around me,
but i stomp on them.
i pour bacon grease on my legs;
the burn feels good for thirty minutes,
but the blisters become unbearable at thirty-one.

i didn't just spill the milk;
i poked a hole in the carton.
i watched it leak through, like blood seeping through a bandage;
i'm crying over spilled milk.
i'm always crying over spilled milk.

i want to grow out of this never ending stage of self sabotage;
i am the victim,
i am always the victim;
the child cries wolf and no one in town cares anymore;
the wolf can't be found,
because the child has swallowed it.

i am no good.
my kitchen is a mess,
i don't eat breakfast,
and i play the victim card like it's the only one left in the deck.
my groceries are in the dumpster out back;
i'm ravenous --
i'll eat you out of house and home.
  Jun 7 Alex
Dagen Kipling
You’re my morning cup
of black coffee.
A taste of reality
with that bitter bite.
Finding the beauty in
the harsh flavor.
You are not perfect.
    
-But you are, to me.
    
[DK]
  Jun 7 Alex
wesley mcmillon
I'm fighting tears
like
the knights of lore fought dragons
I'm a turret of emotions
The demons under my bed
are reaching up and holding me by my throat as I sleep
Forcing me to dream of the good days of old
Forcing me to face my fears for the future
I wander the streets late at night
A slight limp from the broken bone in my foot.
I'm self destructive
Why would I let myself heal
when I know I'm hurting everyone I love.
I can't breathe again.
The ball and chain on my ankle is cutting deep.
The white noise I found an escape in isn't enough anymore
The voices are coming back.
My border line personality disorder
is burning bridges
While I desperately drag my past as I try and snuff the flames.
I'm reaching for buckets of water
But dumping gasoline
Burn, baby, burn
  Jun 4 Alex
Evelyn Smith
Churned butter in my stomach.
Leave before they can leave you.
Try fight the feeling.
Take a breath or two.

Let others hurt you.
Seek out pain from untrustworthy sources.
Let it eat away at you.
Call it a self deprecating break away from self infliction.
Because you ache to feel pain and you throb to hurt.
All you do is hurt.

But you're so much better at hiding it.
Everyone thinks you're improving,
though you still feel like you're dying on the inside.
Every action or word is salt in an old wound allowing it to re-open.
Swallow the blood in your throat before you choke on it.
You are paper thin like you always have been.

You are as insecure as you always have been.
You're scared, your fragile, you're vulnerable and foolish.
You will rely on anyone with a sweet smile.
And your demise will be just that

Bite the hand that feeds before it feeds you bad luck.
Overthink every possibility until your face turns blue.
Let paranoid arouse your darkest fears.
Allow it to convince you that bad is good and good is bad.
Everything is bad, everything is a danger.

People are beginning to find strength in you.
But when they lean upon your shoulder they will only hit the ground.
People are beginning to think you're stronger.
Your childish attempt to not seem a burden will be the biggest burden to them all.

Churned butter in my stomach.
Punch the pillow before you punch yourself.
Try fight the feeling.
Take a breath or two.

Take a breath, close your eyes, fight fear with trust.
Just breathe.
  Jun 2 Alex
Laura
Sometimes
I just want to die

not really,
but really

I'm just wanting an escape.
Wanting to leave this place
Leave the people
Leave the stress

I don't want any of it
Don't need anybody
just one
that's it

But I couldn't take him with me
He deserves better

I don't have any friends.
Don't get along with my parents.

I feel alone.
So just let me do it.
Let me go.

My wrists are already scarred.
My cheeks are already tear-streaked.
My will is already almost gone.
So just let me go.
  Jun 2 Alex
Nivine Nahli
bpd
Pain will never leave me.
It lingers into my skin,
Leaving aches all over my body.
I’ve become fragile and thin.

Some days I’m the sun,
Other days I’m just pure darkness.
There is no way I could outrun,
The feeling of being heartless.

I beg you to stay by my side,
I question your love for me.
I threaten to leave you behind,
Screaming in pain, don’t leave me.

I interrogate my own existence,
Wondering why and how I’m still here.
I woke up with so much resilience,
For once, not a single fear.

That won’t last long,
In a few minutes I’ll be someone new.
I know, there’s something wrong.
But I wish you had a clue.
Living with BPD.
  Jun 1 Alex
Deepening Wells
Sitting on the bathroom floor with a gun in your hand
Knees pulled up to your chest
Your head rests on your knees
Your shoulders shaking cause you're laughing and crying
Gun to the side of your head
"Are you gonna do it?"
Find the sweet release when the bullet leaves the barrel of the gun and enters your brain

Click

The gun's empty
I am not dying
The gun's unloaded
I do this every time
Never strong enough to take the bullet
And never strong enough to let anyone see me like this
Always weak enough to be messed up like this
*Always thinking, always wishing I put a bullet in
Wow. This is how I imagine myself at 23 and I'm still depressed and suicidal too when I am.
I hate it...
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