I was
different when you met me,
I had locked the other me away inside her cage
And I know you’d never met her but I’m sure you heard all of the noise she makes
Well, love, she’s out now
And I’m sorry, but she’s broken from her leash
I’ll try to tame her- but please realize
She’s still a part of me

Inside
          I am
                 Chaos,
Furious soul.

Outside
             with You,
I Mayhem.

the two of them
attached at the hip;
inseparable.
how strange to be
such opposites,
yet forced to live in the
same prison.

one was an insomniac, while the other slept 16 hours a day.

one was confident and able, nothing could bring her down.
the other faulted inside herself, with arms stretched above her, begging for a way up.

one was flowing thoughts and new ideas, with an unconscionable amount of energy.
the other thought obsessively, always in the negative, lacking the ability to even speak most days.

one was a stomach full of butterflies, terrified at the thought of dying.
the other spent her days, chest aching and empty, begging for each one to be her last.

so tell me, how do astronomical
glow
and insufferable
darkness
coincide accordantly?

they simply don’t

with each constantly afflicting the other,
the small prison in which they inhabit
is collapsing
falling into itself
soon to dissipate
until nevermore

The magic of the mentally ill
Is the ability they master, with time,
To continue on and thrive
With a hell built into their mind.
I sobbed so hard they thought I was laughing
And instead of screaming, I whisper, silent enough that only
The weak of mind can hear.
And there's something to be said for
The weaker than the average human
And how I have to say they're different from you-
in a negative tone-
Just so you'll comprehend the difference
Between us and you.
Truth is we are stronger than anyone
Will ever give us credit for
And in our solemn solitude
We find ourselves wishing for release
Through whatever could get us out the fastest
From this hell built into our minds.
Truth is we are never going to escape.
Instead we adapt, we tie the knots between hell and heaven
And we thrive
Despite the hell built into our minds.

What do you want from me?
Borderline personality disorder, why have you chosen me?
Have I not suffered enough in this pitiful life?
All I ask is to have a stable identity and sense of self
But you come creeping into my development and overtake
Labels are nothing
Labels are everything
No in between with anything,
Black and white thinking
Love or hate
Mania or depression
In the span of 5 minutes.
The only constant you allow me to feel is my hatred for you.
Every moment is a swirling vortex of losing hope and
Clinging to anyone who so much as smiles in my direction
But I suppose
When everything is switching
Faster than a traffic light
Because of you.
The thing to be most thankful for
Is to be able to hold onto you.
Borderline personality disorder, why have you chosen me?
My only sense of self, since you change everything else

A wind chime old and rusting on your grandmother’s porch
The song not as clear as it once was
The new tune so softly eerie that to a passerby it seems just fine

Waking up five minutes before your alarm
Sitting on your bed, wide awake
Just watching the time tick pass, minutes of your life
Until you’re past the time to go

In the idle of traffic, you become aware
Of all the movement around you
Babies whine, horns honk, people sing
Yet here you are
What are you doing?
Are you doing anything at all?

Your bed is a coffin, dusty from the days you don’t open it at all
The sunlight is foreign to your eyes
People prance around you, basking in its glory
They don’t even blink at your inability to see the light.

In the cemetery,
Gravestones surround you,
Bodies of the lost and souls of the ******
You can’t help but resonate somewhere deep inside your soul.
Not that you wish to be dead, no.
Just that it seems you already are.

Rushing through never seemed so lovely
Do I have to do this again?
How much time until it ends?
Phase through the routine and
Put up with the words spat in your face like venom
Who can blame you for being lazy?
It isn’t laziness making you this way
This is a universal feeling that no one knows how to explain
A lot of people don’t even know it’s there
Like
A poison slowly seeping into the gases we breathe
So subtle we barely even notice as it overtakes us
Controls us
But we are all under the veil of a lie that this is just how we are
Maybe it isn’t this day making us all mindless robots
Maybe it isn’t just enhancing our already full glass of depression
Maybe it’s ******* away at the energy of before
And maybe it’s doing nothing at all.
Since time is a concept, we just all search for things to blame for our own faults
Are we doing the same with this?
We have so much to look forward to.
That’s all we truly care about.

A self centered shallow cry for excitement that we buzz through what we could also be making exciting
We treat this day like a ghost fogging up our glasses when it is truly an opportunity smacked down into the middle of it all.
We all need a break, yes.
But what are we really taking a break from?

Secrets, secrets, are no fun, unless you share with everyone.

But what if the secret affects someone else?
What if the secret negatively impacts yourself?

Secrets, secrets

I try to clear my mind,
But it keeps popping up
Time after time.

Are no fun

I want to yell, I want to scream,
I want the whole world to know
What's eating me alive
And why I'm bursting at the seams.

Unless you share with everyone

I have been sworn to secrecy,
And I cannot tell,
I've sworn myself in,
And with this I dwell.

The past is heavy,
But secrets weigh more,
And with no one to tell,
My heart and brain begin a War.

I'm battling myself,
At every given instance.
And oh, how I wish
I could return to my days of innocence.

But I have been sworn to secrecy,
And now I cannot speak of it,
Such an invasion of privacy,
And a secret I can't admit.

But maybe, just maybe,
One day I will.
I'll get it off my chest
And will no longer feel mentally ill.

Secrecy does weird things
To a person,
And the longer it goes on,
The more their mental health will worsen.

Secrets, secrets, are no fun, unless you share with everyone.

I can't tell how I feel
The rats are inside her again
I am a boiling kettle whistling
The blood is hot in her veins

I try to keep it in perspective
Her own fear devours her
I over achieve to balance the scales
They have nothing to be jealous of