Sherri can you hear me?
I'm sitting in my bathroom,
I've got a bunch of pills
And I'm ready to meet my doom.

Sherri can you hear me?
I'm almost ready to die.
I called you for one reason,
I wanted to say goodbye.

Sherri can you hear me?
Please don't call nine-one-one
Nothing can help anymore.
It's all done; I'm done.

Sherri can you hear me?
One, two, three, four.
Counting pills, ready for death
Oh no, they're at the door.

Sherri I gotta go,
The ambulance is here.
My wrists are sliced real bad
And my death is getting near.

Sherri I'm so scared.
Lights and sirens are on high.
They're sticking stickers on my body,
My death will soon be nigh.

Grace can you hear me?
My heart's beating too fast.
I'm seizing, once, twice, three times,
This day will soon be my last.

Grace, stop, stop!
I'm pulling out my needle
Barely aware of what's happening
My body's turning feeble.

Grace, why did you do it?
I'm now being interrogated.
Summit Ridge or Peachford?
To the hospital I am fated.

Mom can you hear me?
It's finally visitor's day.
I'm so anxious, I love you lots
Please mom, will you stay?

Grace did you hear me?
You're going no matter what.
Skyland Trail's the next step,
No ifs, ands, or buts.

Mom can you hear me?
I miss you too much.
Please. come pick me up,
I really miss your touch.

Friends can you hear me?
You're help was invaluable.
A Thank You goes to everyone
My recovery is beyond admirable.

I wear my mask almost every single day
It feels like I just can't get away.
I wear it to hide the real and true "me"
Hide me away so no one can see.

I wear a mask to hide the truth
I was hurt many times during my youth.
Trusting people who shouldn't be trusted
My innocent self was truly beyond busted.

The mental illness that resulted from that
Makes every day a day with combat.
I wear my mask to hide from others
My struggles that I seek to cover.

People with BPD struggle immensely
To seek and to hold their own true identity.
I count myself as one among them
A lifetime of masks I have been condemned.

It feels as though I am a ball
Up and down, forever I fall.
Not tethered to anything, flailing about,
A cycle I cycle, never to get out.

It affects my relations by ceasing to exist
Even though I try hard to persist.
My personality changes too often
Hanging with me deserves a precaution.

So I'll wear my mask, I'll don it again
To keep them from seeing me so insane.
The true "me" is hidden, back to pretend I go,
You know me too well, true "me" almost showed.

Do not tell me
Your best friend wouldn't be
Gasping for air as she
Hurls herself to the ground
In agony and grief.
Do not tell me
Your classmates wouldn't stare
At your empty seat
Holding back tears
Long after you're gone.
Do not tell me
Your teachers wouldn't give anything
To read one more paper
Or grade one more test
So long as they can have you back.
Do not tell me
Your brother wouldn't
Walk past your closed door and
Be yelled at one more time
For one more stupid problem.
Do not tell me that your father wouldn't wish
That he could hold his baby
Instead of watching them lower his princess
Into her final resting place.
And do not ******* tell me that your mother wouldn't sob
As she washed your last load of laundry
That you would ever *****,
Wishing she could smell her baby girl
One last time.

Do not tell me they wouldn't miss you

Because they would.

"Right here," [points at heart] "you're dead."
"And right here," [points at head] "you're twisted."
Borderline personality disorder.
A curse.
I am alone, empty, freezing, starving, withering.
I am sorry.
Always sorry.
Sorry to so many.
I am doomed.
I am alone.
I am twisted.
I am desperate.

When I was five,
my mother told me I was loved.
Years later, she asked me to leave because
I was the reminder of the gruesome past that haunted her.

When I was ten,
my father told me he believed in me.
Years later, he refused to accompany me because
I was an embarrassment to him in front of the society.

When I was fifteen,
my friends told me I was funny.
Years later, they all laughed at me because
I was the gullible teenager who fell for their flawless façade.

When I was twenty,
this guy said I was beautiful.
Years later, he trashed me, tormented me because
I was ignorant enough to overlook my inevitable flaws.

So, sorry for not believing in you,
for questioning your intentions, inclusively, in-depth
when you told me you loved me because
I didn’t want to wind up years later,
learning it the hard way that people often don’t mean what they say.