The waves take me whole, they have not feasted in so long they did not mind the bitter heartache I was carrying.
I am lost, in the heart of the ocean, and I ponder where does she harbour her heartache? Does she ever feel for the coral reefs, and the millions of species that get brutally taken away, or does she lay there and take fate as her cure?
My beloved Pacifica, I give you my heart and I beg you to take me whole. To carry my emotions is as if I’m carrying the tides of all your generations, and my body is so insignificant in comparison to your azure wonder. I am dissipating, within the wrath of my soul, and I reek of constant betrayal and failed promises.
So I ask the universe to let me go, perhaps there is no hell and heaven, perhaps there is no afterlife. Perhaps the ones that suffer just head towards an infinity where nothing exists, and somehow the thought of that eases my pain.
BPD can be hell.