Borderline Personality Disorder.

1. The other day I woke up and thought I knew who I was
I fell asleep and somewhere in between I lost myself
I lost the feeling in my stomach too
but we're still talking about how much we have in common.

2. My sweater got stuck on the hanger this morning
I started to rip it down
eventually I broke plastic and skin.
I haven't been back in my room since.

3. 12:06 PM Today my best friend came home and took most of our makeup
12:07 PM I messaged her and mocked our friendship.
12:07 PM She was in trouble with her grandma and had to hurry. She didn't know.
12:08 PM I broke down crying.

4. I woke up at 7:32 AM and took 4 shots
drank 2 beers
smoked four bowls
drank half a bottle of NyQuil and woke up the next day.
I have yet to figure out why.

5. I wanted to be a horse trainer for 9 years
then I decided I wanted to be an artist
worked on becoming a tattoo artist
matured into a writer
fell in love with photography
now I'm not even sure if I like school.

6. First scars appeared at 9
worst scars at 15.
First attempt at 10
almost wasn't an attempt at 14.

7. I've been happy the past few days
but I still want to **** myself
because soon I'll be drowning in depression
and succumbing to anxiety.

9. Once I got so bored
I thought myself into sorrow.
I didn't come out for a few hours
but by dinner I was laughing.

10. I used to be in love with a boy
but I didn't know
so I used whatever I could get
and now I'm alone.
I don't blame him.

11. I've mentally lost myself
as I screamed into the mirror
and it wasn't me talking to myself.
I don't really remember being there
but I was.

I told you
"I wish I could tell you how I feel
but you don't read poetry"
and you chuckled
like I spoke a foolish language
and your voice grabbed me by the hands
and led me further from you.

I'll always miss you no matter where I am
no matter who I'm turning out to be
or with whom I stand
There's ghosts of my body your hands will always remember;
remaining impressions you left on my heart
as you became a man.

I still love you.
I caught myself searching for those
lingering stares;
like your eyes don't want to leave.
You still glance at me too intensely
to be considered
just a figment of background
in each other's presence
but I still harbor every memory
in the shores of my mind,
always greeting my thoughts
when I don't want to swim too deep.

I want you
I just want you.
It's like I'm in this constant struggle with myself
and your subconscious
to bring you closer to me
to harbor you like I need you to harbor me
to listen to my head like I know you try
to show me you care
instead of handing over fistfuls of words
that I can't feel
no matter how many times you layer promise
after promise
over old wounds.

This fleeting moment with him was so sweet
looking back on this in ten years I could probably name so many
just know it was sweet
and you were understood
and right now you are happy and warm
and the sun looks like the guitar riffs floating through your bedroom
and the dog is sleeping
and your room is messy but it's okay
because we'll take care of it later
and you are alive
and you are alive
and you are still alive

Like the city
there's always the constant buzz of your existence in the background
reminding me you're still here
polluting my thoughts

Your lights are too brilliant to disentangle from my mind
burning bright like neon signs in your eyes
prompting me towards you
and your vacant streets

Empty words hang on brick
crumbling graffiti of the walls we used to call shelter;
we built houses on comfort
but always needed something better

When I left, you phoned
I told you I had found home
though I wanted to hear the lonely in your voice
match the lonely I still know

Sleeves of scars
and a garter of silver lines and burns
oh the hurt I've endured
Seated by the fire as a child
Lord knows I've had thoughts like this for a while
I'd dwell on the discretion I took
brooding over every hook that snagged my flesh
made a mess
of the little girl I never was
and they who shook me
pet me from the inside out
must have forgotten to what degree
their consumptive hands made me bleed
God how I wish they could see
every stain left with or without cause
was provoked by their nostalgic applause
but I don't even blame them
It was a conscious disease
perniciously eating
still chewing at me.

By losing him I found more of myself in the process.

What if I just let him go?
I can do that
What if I just inhaled everything I had been missing?
I should feel that
What if I can cry again and not have him lacing my thoughts?
It's possible
What if I forgot to keep time again?
It's not something I'd need to worry about
with you else where
and your shadow not guiltily sipping
any chance I have
of recovering from this
masochistic
and
draining
way of life.
I want to flirt with the freedoms
I've so often tasted on my tongue.
I don't want to care
about anything
and I want to be sober
and indulge in the same pleasures.
I want to leave behind the pain
of my mental cage
and no longer want to be considered
on the absolute
borderline
of a
dangerous
insanity.

To this day I smoke cigarettes in their names
a collection of men
admittedly women
that after settling too long
sit somewhere between memories and strain.
I don't burden myself with the weight of their names
though a few of their impressions have become deepening stains
bruising, blemishing the favorite spots on my brain.
Earliest versions of the story have found personal inches on my skin
before I grew up I learned to let it leak in
sluicing through veins
burning the moments of where I had been
in attempts to remind myself of what remains.

i want so bad to feel the burn of his love set fire to the edges of my life
i want to feel his lips meet mine without the angst i imagine
and i want the rawness of our impulse to dictate our love
i want to guide his ******
and sip his lust
i want to dive into the fascinating parts of him
and linger in the shallows
the unsecrets of his mind
i want to not miss him and for him to love me again
i want to feel his finger tips trail every curve
every imperfection
and accept it as honestly as he did
i want to be accepted into love once again.

i want to not feel so badly for the words that meet others
and i want to not live in a shrouded fire any longer
i want to break and rip apart the routine with fury
and love as much
and feel as much
and live as much as I can
without my brain being bent relentlessly to the influence of substances.

I still find comfort in you
As if I have made a home in that crevice in your neck
You know
The space between your head and your heart
Where I'd place drunken admirations ever so often
And it always ended in my folly...
But no
I do not blame or hold you accountable to anything less than chivalrous
Besides your thirst for me
And the cup I'd lay at your feet ever so often
And now
My truths have led to false accusations of utter lust
But oh God it was more than that... ever so often.

Beautiful things fell out of his mouth.
I miss the way they felt
as I'd wear them around for days,
like necklaces of gold,
rings of silver
adorned on my mind.

We are all the leftover misfits people had promised to make room for but never did. We are all the scribbles the doodler swore to make art out of someday, but were never given the chance; the ugly friend, the childhood scar housing reminiscent places, familiar feelings. And somehow amongst the muck and the **** people tend to label as having friends we pulled through with the title, 'there' for them. There. Funny, how one word can invoke such feelings of those who remember what that word actually means when you speak with intent on your tongue. There.

How we were 'there' for them; dealing with their choices, while they're looking for security in a storm, when there's rain flooding the highest peaks of our reticence.

We are there. Somehow we found each other. In this weird **** world we all managed to uniquely fit the structures of what we called love into the base of what we knew.  And our laughs broke the deepest silences, our voices chimed past the furthest room, and our judgments didn't exist because we were the best parts of the few.

It’s halfway through March
which means I’ve been lost since I don’t know when
I used to call it a life binge
but I can’t seem to stop spinning
think I’ve lost my footing
still can’t see the ground
wonder what sound I’ll make if I fall
so used to catching myself
I wonder if I’ll fall at all

The cans in my room clang like church bells on a Sunday
waking me from a slumber as I roll in my blankets
the wind sweeps my cheek
my minds still asleep
but my eyes flutter anyway

I can taste last nights regrets on my tongue
stale
dry
like I spilled so many words
my mouth has nothing left to taste

Beer still rolls in my belly
holds me like an apology
as I reach for more water
I want to reach for something more

With you here it's easier to convince myself I don't need the high.
You're holding me together where I used to fill my cracks
breathing
and breathing
and breathing me in
and still managing to keep us both feeling alright.

We're lights in the middle of the night
luminescent but not all that bright
yet still guiding each other home
A grip in the middle of the cold
strolling tight side by side
won't admit we're lost in the city
Skipping through skid row
I let you take me home
Past Whittier boulevard
towards the old houses
and past my favorite park
where we ran screaming from
the city's heartbeats pounding through the dark

Not so much lies as much as it's the empty words
said so chastely it takes time to understand the hurt
And it's not so much pain as it is the hollowing of my chest
nothing I could say that you wouldn't already guess
But it's not so much the guess as it is your actions
you only care to fix problems to your satisfaction

Everything is that deep for me
I have oceans inside
swells in my chest
the tides have been beating
I can't keep waves in my hand
but I have handfuls of what I can keep

Why does everything feel like it's going to pull me under?

I'm trying to open the door for you but it's like your afraid to come inside
you never know what to say to me, I can see it in your campfire eyes
but staying silent isn't any better than not saying something right
though your words usually hurt
and one of us always tries to apologize.

I know you didn't ask for broken but these days I'm trying my best
to mend my own wounds and refill this emptiness in my chest
I wouldn't expect you to understand or make attempt to fix my mistakes
just hold me when I'm falling
because sometimes even I am scared of my own pain.