it’s been so long
since i’ve felt good
i almost think of Joy as a stranger
and you know what they say
You’re a work in progress
And I don’t know if I have the time
To raise a boy
When what I need is a man
and I hope that every time
your mouth moves
to make the sound
of the first letter of her name
in the back of your head
you hear my name instead
Don't worry mum.
I'm worse than you think
But no way near as bad as you fear.
thank god i can’t write good poetry
the best poetry comes from pain and hurt if you ask me
so although i can’t write like i used to
at least it means i’m doing alright
hurting is healing
Strip your soul naked
Show me your biggest fears
Tell me your burried dreams
The last time you shed a tear
The lies you told your parents
Things that make you feel small
Do you believe in god?
Are you willing to climb my walls?
I guess you should know this
I fear abandonment above all
I long for your devotion
Its either all or nothing at all
Something I wrote when I found out I have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder)
There you were, standing amongst a sea of people. I could swear this was a scene from a cliche romcom, where the main characters meet for the first time and just, knew.
My head kept replaying the same words. “So this is why it all had to happen”. On
and on and on, like a broken record.
And then our eyes locked; we both felt it.
How surreal and whimsical, but we felt it.