writing | you

mental health writing

You
Leave me feeling lonely
You
Leave me feeling empty
You
Make me disproportionately angry
You
Leave me insecure

You are a jealous lover, a possessive paramour whose grip on my wrist is too tight, too tight

BPD, set me free because I might jump off this balcony otherwise, or swallow every pill I have in my possession
I’m tired of feeling like every bone, every muscle, every cell in my body is screaming with hurt hurt hurt

There isn’t enough space for me in here.
I don’t remember who I was before this, before overly sensitive was used like a slur and temperamental was a label.

I used to think I was a hurricane, but I’m just caught in the storm and the blast radius is too much, too much

There is no aha! moment, no eureka where I figure out how to manage my raging emotions and I’m sure the people around me are getting tired of the sturm und drang

You’ve thrown me into the deep end, left me with an anchor that weighs me down and I’m drowning faster than I should

You
Make me insecure
You
Make me seethe with anger
You
Left me lonely
You
Leave me empty.

Leave a Reply