my brain
whispers knives
“leave now,”
it says,
“before they see
the cracks,
before you break
them too.”
it tells me
they’d be better off
without me
a storm
they don’t need
to weather.
and even when
i know it’s a lie,
even when
their arms
hold me
like i’m worth
something
the voice still screams,
and my mouth
itches
to spit poison,
to push them away
before they leave me.
i’m learning
to hold my tongue,
to hold my heart,
to quiet the noise
that tries to pull me under
but some days
i still feel
too broken
to stay.
May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 12:27 AM UTC
my brain
whispers knives
“leave now,”
it says,
“before they see
the cracks,
before you break
them too.”
it tells me
they’d be better off
without me
a storm
they don’t need
to weather.
and even when
i know it’s a lie,
even when
their arms
hold me
like i’m worth
something
the voice still screams,
and my mouth
itches
to spit poison,
to push them away
before they leave me.
i’m learning
to hold my tongue,
to hold my heart,
to quiet the noise
that tries to pull me under
but some days
i still feel
too broken
to stay.
relationships with BPD are never easy.
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