BPD?

“What’s the matter?” a kind voice asks, as my soul crumbles to the ground
And I try to spurt out my deepest thoughts but alas! I make no sound.
How can I describe this feeling? – this emptiness in my heart.
It’s like I had lost a nothingness that had never been there from the start.

Please don’t leave me, my darling. I love you quite a lot.
But I’m afraid I have to push you away in case you love me not
and abandon me. Just like history replaying itself again.
Like my father, my brother, my sister and all my so-called friends.

Perhaps some didn’t reject me, at least not as I had in mind.
Nonetheless, my clumsy body tags along and generally falls behind.
It doesn’t make much of a difference, as no sooner had I learned to love
I would find fault and evilness, blood stains on a simple white glove.

I dreamed of hateful torment and his calls for me to die.
I became a weak child again, never catching glimpse of the sky.
I hate myself for not being able – I detest my vulnerability.
And I thought you were my mother… why won’t you look after me?

In reality, I don’t blame her. She’s a victim herself, I know.
But I need a source or an outlet to blame; the pain needs somewhere to go.
A thought that gives me pleasure is to spend a day at the beach.
Forget the ache, forget the memories, forget people. And I reach

For a rope tied to a rock to tighten around my neck
And close my eyes and breathe sweet air as I casually fall off the deck
And sink down to the seabed where my soul can finally rest
Such freedom, such peace, a lift of heaviness from my chest.

But I am much too cowardly for such a noble end.
And part of me wishes to seek a way for my fragments to mend.
My arm becomes a chopping board, each slit a dash of relief.
I regain my sense of control over everything that I hold a belief.

My body is tired, I couldn’t sleep, or at least I wish not to.
I haven’t drunk water or eaten at all. I know what I should do.
But everything is extra hard – I amn’t quite sure why.
It’s like I have not motive to move or go out or even to sit and cry.

I’m hurting those I love with the pain that I suffer from.
So, I’m reaching out and getting help – easier said than done.
It’ll take some time to get by. And I’ll understand if you can’t wait.
I really shouldn’t be dragging you into this awful state.

I just want you to know, I’m not pushing you away.
And I’ll always love you for our good memories every day.
I thank you for sticking by me, and making such wonderful plans.
And maybe one day the brilliant sun will shine down on us again.

 

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