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Shay Jun 2016
I am BPD.
I am the demon that possesses your mind,
I am the ghost of all you want to leave behind.
I am the monster that will make you unstable,
The voice in your head making you suicidal.
I am your heart making your emotions intense,
I am your mind, muddled and making no sense.
I am your brain making you neurotic,
With the perfect balance of a handful of psychotic.
I am your self-esteem making you feel worthless,
I will make sure you feel that you have no purpose.
I am your impulsiveness making you act reckless;
Your need to harm yourself is becoming endless.
I am your soul feeling neglected,
You feel it very deeply because you need to be protected.
I am your extreme paranoia,
Making you live in a shell, I’m a merciless destroyer.
I am your fear of rejection, you will outburst at the slightest disaffection.
So, I am BPD and I will ruin your life,
I will cover you in scars made by the blade of a knife.
Watch me as I disappear.
As my soul begins to fade.
Watch as inside I start to go numb.
And find comfort in a blade.

Watch as my heart grows cold,
As the sparkle in me dies.
Watch as my voice goes silent,
Worn out from my unheard cries.

Watch as the girl you once knew
Slowly retreats within.
Watch as my armor cracks,
Thinking about what could've been.

Watch as I scratch words on paper.
Words that are never heard.
Watch as I try to fly away,
To be free like a bird.

Watch as I stop showing emotion,
And I start not to care.
Watch as I try to make it through Hell
When I haven't got a prayer.
This is one of my many poems that I have written during my depressive states.
Shay Feb 2016
I feel every emotion too deeply; they're a dagger to my heart,
and I'm too sensitive - it only takes one tiny trigger for me to fall apart.
Sometimes it feels as though I'm not a real being;
convinced reality is a figment of my imagination that I'm seeing.
I started to litter my body with scars from the innocent age of ten,
I haven't stopped although I am nineteen now - things just haven't changed since then.
I made my first attempt at the tender age of just twelve years old,
and to this day another fourteen have occurred; by this inner demon I'm controlled.
A patient in a psychiatric hospital 6 days after my eighteenth birthday,
after swallowing a cocktail of pills and alcohol wanting to die away.

But...

I am someone with raw passion that flows through my veins
and my curiosity and adoration for the world around me remains.
I have mastered the art of living in the moment and doing the things that matter to me;
and I'm full of devotion and determination to be the person I'm destined to be.
I use poetry as an expression of all that I feel and I am made of linguistic creativity,
and I love deeply without reservation everything and everyone around me.

So although I may have borderline personality disorder as a part of me,
I am still a kind-hearted and passionate person who wants to be the best she can be.
Joyce Savage Nov 2015
I am the shadow,
I exist in a world of light,
Blending into the darkness of night.

My face you cannot see,
My expressions, sometimes misleading.

If you hear a whisper in the wind,
It may be me.

I am the shadow,
I exist in a world of sounds, good and bad.
Of laughter,
Crying,
Shouting,
Singing.

You think that I feel nothing,
No love,
No hate,
No anger,
No fear,
No pain.
But you are wrong.

You think that I do not cry,
But I weep silently.
You cannot see the tears that slide down my cheeks,
But they are there.

I am the shadow, you cannot touch,
Always within sight but never within reach.

I am the shadow, afraid to trust the light for it distorts me.
Please forgive me if I trick you,
I cannot control it.

I long to live in the light,
To be held and loved,
But I am only a silent shadow,
Watching but unable to take part in it all,
What others do, I can only dream of.

So I lurk in corners,
Ignored,
Misunderstood.
Always waiting for the night to come,
Always dying but never dead.

I am the shadow, I have no friends,
Even in a crowd, I’m all alone.
Existing in somber shades of gray,
A lonely shadow,
I’m doomed to stay.
I wrote this before my diagnosis.  It was written in 1990.  I wasn't diagnosed until 2005.  Enjoy!
Shay Nov 2015
Mad
I've fallen down the rabbit hole again,
into a world of my own full of pain.
I am not Alice and this is not wonderland,
so please don't be fooled or misunderstand.


Everything is a blur and my head is spinning;
I fear that this is just the beginning.
This creature's whispers are disturbing,
declaring revelations that are most perturbing.


People say that I am as mad as the hatter,
and their cruel whispers really do matter,
because if I really am as insane as they say,
I feel I should be locked away.
Tabi G Jul 2015
i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry
i didnt mean to make you sad
oh god, im a bad friend

i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry
i didnt mean to talk too loud
i didnt mean to startle you
i didnt mean to take up too much space
i didnt mean
i didnt mean
i didnt mean
i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry
Calli Kirra May 2015
May is Borderline Personality Disorder awareness month. I was diagnosed two years ago when I was 15, and I've now just turned 17.  I haven't spoken of this much before, and I don't really talk about it in general, but I think it's important for those with this disorder to come together to support each other, and for those who don't have it to understand what it's like. If anyone wants to talk or needs support,
I'm here for you. You're beautiful, stay strong.
pixels Nov 2012
i'll tattoo these emotions across my wrists
because they're choking me all the way through my skin
wrapping around my veins
tainting my soul like a sick liquor

and no one will understand this suffocation
this slow sort of cancer spreading along my neurons

the numb stage is over
my smile now appears
but it's warped and it's deranged
just like the scars i create

i've been crying for hours
and there's no end in sight

and my nerves are exposed
innocent words
cut to the bone

i climb higher and higher




i topple over the edge
Mental disorders combining with personality disorders is a passionate, painful thing.
pixels Jun 2013
You Reap What You Sow

A sentiment that never quite stuck.

I did what I would-
Consequences were a punishment
for villains more obvious
than the sweet girl I played.

But the real world is not so biased,
peeling away the masks I wore

You Lay in the Bed You Make*

But my pillow is filled with thorns,
and my blanket is thread-bare.
The mattress is layered with spiders' webs
and the chill never abates.

I long for the One to warm my soul...
But it's been years since another has lain so close

For I sow seeds of deceit
and when they bloom
the fruit is bittersweet
and the stems cannot bear weight.
You get only what you deserve.
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