A Poem
22 February, 2005
Author: Robby
Waking up with an anxious mind,
leads to many questions with answers, that are hard to find.
Cigarette butts burn down to their ends, with an occasional burnt lip,
so a sip from my cup quickly heals the sting, and the scale in my brain start to tip.
Smiles shine through the worry, although obvious, I fool.
I'm good at what I do, I'm relentless, and I'm cruel.
Looking for some answers, hidden in a mind filled with stop signs left and right,
hiding behind apologies that are smothering, mean, and help to waste the night.
Asking "why" is less than necessary, these emotions are insane,
bite down hard on your lip, hurt yourself, heal the pain.
You should have thought before screaming and hitting, yes this is true.
Don't let it worry you too much, today after you broke down and cried, you grew.
------- Author's Notes -------
I've been suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder for most of my life and am just now at the age of 23 beginning to learn how to work with it. |
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Britney (67.136.94.170) -- Wednesday, February 23 2005, 02:17 am I thought this was a well said poem, I really enjoyed reading it. Keep it up! Hope to here more. always, ~Britney~ :). hope you get better with your disorder also. |
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