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Submission

My eyes are open to darkness. I've long since learned how to make my way through isolation without the use of sight. I am confident in my movements and do not stumble or falter. A sudden, glaring light reveals an intrusion into my carefully crafted world of silence. It's talons are sharp and dig roughly into my surroundings, leaving deep, jagged scars. I look around in confusion, not recognizing what's happening to my sanctuary. I watch in horror as the intruder melds itself into everything I have spent so much time perfecting. Something foreign snakes its way into my consciousness so slowly it feels like a caress. I am not alarmed but rather curious so I welcome it openly. The whispers of promises are pretty and alluring. With my attention held I don't notice the chaos that continues around me. Selective words are sung into my ears, a lullaby, as if to a child to dream them to sleep. I close my eyes and listen, forgetting all about the destruction before my feet. Gentl...

The Monster Within

I rock back and forth, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. Over and over. They're late. They're always late. I bite my hand to keep from crying out. It's a better alternative than screaming. They've long since stopped caring. Finally. Finally. Finally. The small sliding door opens and the tray slides into my dark prison cell, accompanied by a straw. I finish quickly as a guttural cry escapes my throat without my permission. It's not enough. Never enough. I used to beg, banging at the door until my hands bled but they don't care. They've never cared. I pace the small confines of the room, back and forth, almost insane with need. All I'm asking for is a little more. Can't they do it just one time? I banish the thought. I learned a long time ago that more is sometimes just as dangerous as not enough. I pick up a small rock and drag it along my arm. The sensation a small reprieve to the gnawing hunger inside. I feel drops of blood run down my arm and f...

Ladies and Gents; I bring you BPD

This is confusing and frustrating - For my friends. Watching me make choices they know are no good but are supportive because they have to be. Hoping I'm okay and worrying about me every day. Thankful that I'm alive. For myself. I don't understand my decisions, thoughts or actions. I watch myself doing things, knowing I need to change it or stop but unable to do so because I'm not in control anymore. I feel adrift from my mind and body. I feel my emotions intensely. When you're at a steady level 4 - I am an uncontrollable, wild level 8. I get paranoid and distrustful. I let go of friendships easily. I overreact and am erratic. I make impulsive decisions and don't have healthy coping strategies. I am often misunderstood and taken the wrong way. I don't always think before I speak/act and I hurt people unintentionally. My brain is a spinning top that I am unable to slow down or stop. 

My Room

It is every colour all at once. It is expansive and claustrophobic at the same time. There are no windows. There are four bare bulbs centred on each wall, each with a different wattage that never turn off. I am plopped into this room without prior knowledge or consent. I grow accustomed, content and attached to this room. It is my home. I know the colour, I know the light, I know the shadow. Whether or not I know why I'm here, or even that I'm here at all, this room is safe. I must protect this room. People chip away at the other sides of the walls. Imperceptible at first. Sometimes so, that I don't notice the intrusion at all. I believe them safe to my room. But then they start to make changes to my home. What are you doing? That should be blue, not green. Stop it! Don't move that light, it doesn't belong there. That shouldn't be turned up so high, I can't see! They do so without asking and without permission. And then they leave. I am left n...

Split

Hello, my love. I've missed you. What did I do? Are you mad at me? You always do this! You can't do anything right! I love you. I hate you. You fucked up. I can't do this. Hug me. We're done. I'm sorry. Why do you want to dwell? You never let anything go! You just want to punish me! I love you. You are nothing to me. I miss you. Don't you want me? I need you. I love you. I never loved you. I'm done with you. What do you want for lunch?

My Ocean's Melody

I am an ocean. I run deep. Creatures creep and slither around. I am expansive. There are many places in myself I don't know or wouldn't recognize. My water is calm at the surface but many things happen underneath. My bottom is dark and cold. Some places are impenetrable. I cannot go there. To go is to let go of sanity and reason. They do not belong there - are not welcome. The beat of my ocean is erratic. The edges are sharp. The pressure is immense. It comes from all sides. Struggling only pulls it closer. Boats come to rescue me but they grow tired of waiting at an empty dock. My ocean's grip is inescapable. It holds me so I cannot breathe - so I cannot think. But. My ocean is familiar. I have come to see the creatures as old friends. Insanity is comfortable and warm. The hum of unreason is a lullaby I repeat to fall asleep at night. It is soft and welcomes me - beckons me closer. I ignore the calls of the boats, instead retreating into oblivion. My oce...

Darling - a conversation

But I was his girlfriend. Darling, not all rapists corner you in dark alleys. Not all rapists are glaringly obvious. Not all rapists wear a name tag. But I loved him. Darling, of course you did - so much so that you let him into that part of your soul that must be handled with the utmost care. But I changed my mind. Darling, have you ever started to make yourself a cup of tea, and then as you're drinking it decide you don't want it anymore? But I gave in. Darling, be your own voice. Give your back bone feet to stand on. Give your tongue the flame of your anger. Be the poison that is rolling in your stomach. But I blame myself. Darling, he is a coward. He is small. He is not a man, not a lover, not an equal. He is too insecure to listen to your no, that he hears please. Only a fool would misinterpret your stop as his go.