What do I have to do to be accepted
to be me, to be judgement free.
I couldn't even fit in with my own family.
Half of them don't even speak to me and don't dare speak of me, they'll shut u up immediately.
Yes, I can be a handful, they call me dramatic
but they never wondered what caused me to develop very bad habits.
They ignored it,
so, I turned to drugs and alcohol.
My own image is distorted.
I wonder if BPD was just genetics, because my own mother can be so hectic.
Or if it was inflicted, by my older brother
that needed to bust quick, because he couldn’t get any *******.

many things i know are unspoken,
as i sip this drink,
they start unfolding.
i tell myself,
‘i shouldn’t go there.’
to whom it may concern?
i don’t even know them!
they don’t believe me,
because i have BPD and addictions.
it’s unfair,
but they forget i'm very self aware.
if i didn’t care,
i wouldn’t be here.
i’m using this outlet,
to speak for my BPD peers!

& 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀:    

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥
𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬
𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱?

𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰
𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳?"

     𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀.

The greenery of this place never fooled me
The sky just looks so fake,
the clouds are drawn on.
Im at the park on the swings
I need to feel something in my stomach before I waste away at the young ripe age of 5

Just 8 years later getting fingered on the same slide I was afraid of as a little girl
The wind from the past keeps the swings on the playground moving higher
Doing the things that are bad for me
Just to feel lighter

When I'm 15 I have no place to be
No one and nothing to call home
Not even my body is somewhere I know.  
I pop a xannie for the thrill
Hoping that stranger I messaged will take me away from the godforsaken place

This stupid park that holds me so captive.
Run away can't face what is happening
In my head, I'm already dead
Nothing is real
take a Xanax
I only like doing the things that are bad for me
I only like feelings if they're going to make me bleed
I don't care about the context
Of my universal insignificance, I can't even repent. Sitting here on the floor. Higher than the swings ever brought me.
Crashing harder and harder each time I speak.
I can't get off the swing.

When I was in 1st grade I would jump off the swing set just to feel alive
I got a lot of attention because the other kids thought I could die
Maybe I was lacking some sort of Imbalance chemically in my mind
Because the attention they gave me Was a new type of high

I illicit reactions just so I can feel fine
Blood is in the sink I think I can finally see the light
I want to feel the wind between my arms And lift into the air just one more time
The attention is addicting

Thick eyeliner and a black boobie dress
12 years old and they say I'm not filled out quite yet
I enjoyed the validation the old men gave me
Blood red, pill dead
Just like the pretty cigarette girls on TV said.
stuck in this loveless hole until somebody saves me.
Self destructive, enable the pain
Turn the corner and play their game.
I only want to what's worst for me.

I illicit reactions just to see
The emotionally intense delivery
Oh you should see your face,
And in the frown you gave me.
I'm just a liar now
No one hears my screams
There's blood in the sink and no one is listening

Lower middle class middle school *****, stealing pencil sharpeners every chance I could get
The blood is on my clothes and its not coming off
And I'll still send that old man a picture of my body
As I leek blood, draining it like a hobby.
He ignores my pain to fulfill his selfish pleasures knowing he gets to see a pubescent body with ******* on
I only like doing the things that are bad for me.

I illicit these reactions to keep the attraction
If I'm in control and I know their intentions, they can't hurt me
It can't happen
But there's still blood in the sink
God I'm so tragic
Wouldn't you think?

I have this part of me,
A glaringly large part of me,
That I must hide from the world.
Symptoms, thoughts, feelings, and emotions
that I have to cram into a little lunchbox.
By the end of the day this little box weighs
a hundred pounds,
And I alone unpack it's contents
every night.

It's exhausting.
And I'm tired.

I am not apart of my body
And I'm not apart of my mind
These places aren't real and neither am I-
I find comfort in this feeling, oddly satisfied.  

I fade away forgetting the pain
Stuck in this haze
I can't seem to reciprocate a single conversation
Slipping away they think my fate is seldom at the devil's gate
But truly I am just dissociating away.
I can't seem to remember what it was they hated
But I no longer feel the weight of all that's been done to me
Spinning freely away from your gaze.

My memory is stuck. Someone took a key and locked it up and these painful thoughts seep through the bars causing me to feel ajar, I feel panicked I feel disgusted. The pain I thought I hid from is now being digested.

Piece by piece get it back in tiny parts, float away and forget the pain please protect my heart. I can't seem to remember what it was you've done to me, but I know in my bones, my body never felt like home, because it was you who had injected me and infected me, with your sick sticky specimen, locked up in your basement den, ruining my mind teaching me to fly.

My head is nearly leaking methanol disguise my self hide it all. I believe I'm a doctor I know I can prescribe it all myself. Self medicated nose full of Xanax lines i can't seem to get inside my head. Heart is bursting out my chest, lungs are full of cigarettes, God It was such a mess I loved it. The chaos he created, made me replicate it, a cycle of doom there's so many men in my room, who am I anymore?  

Front view right above myself just so I can watch my body rotting. This self destructive part of me is so **** exhausting. How come no one sees my cries how come no one saves me from these lies. Im feeling lonely. Each person came and took a awfully big piece of me I'm starting to fall apart so easily.

Sixteen years feels like too much.
When all you've felt is enough
The cold bitter wind just let this be the end of me, so maybe I can float away for real this once instead of in my mind
I can't make it this time.

The goddess in the wind, kissed me tenderly and told me it's time to win. I felt the warmth and I started to sing, that's when I turned 18 and you gave me a ring, we rebuild all the parts they broke together, and while I may still float away, my angel boy is there to catch me when the wind blows me too far away, slowly and tenderly wrapping my torn heart in his arms,
He saved me.

I'm just a writer.

Nothing more, but never less.
I know my worth, while you ******* stretch.
I have the cards and I have the gun
you have no clue what distress can do.

Be my buddy or be muse
Just leave me alone
If you think I'll lick the blood from your rotten wounds.

It was a few weeks and we fell high in love
I sat and gazed while he took the plunge.
I loved whenever our hands interlaced,
just delicately resting on the same gun.

they tell me to find the light
like its a journey to find
a distance to go
a place to encounter
if that's the case
i have already made a home in the dark

a home made out of your lies
your screams and our fights
stacked them up like stone in wood
you wouldn't live in this home if you could

the dark can be a beautiful place
if you're wise enough to open your eyes
they've mistaken their blindness for the night