Poetry of a Woman with Borderline Personality Disorder

All of the following poems (on this page) were written by the same woman. Her name as been withheld as she requested.

escaping emptiness

empty thoughts stopped dreams ended nowhere to go from here. Can't make something out of emptiness except maybe a hole to toss pent up feelings into But I have no feelings anymore. Can't think of anything at all. Blank heart devoid. Can't remember who I'm supposed to be... just that it's hot and i'm thirsty and alone and i want out.

7.23.98

s t r o n g


Try me, 
she said.
Go ahead,
Slander me 
to get ahead.

Push me,
I stand strong.
Doubtful?
Try me; 
you'll be wrong.

n u m b

Sometimes I forget
I'm here,
listening to your
filthy words.

Sometimes I forget
you're screaming 
so loudly 
it makes my ears ring.

Sometimes I forget
that the tears
rolling down my cheeks
sting. 

Sometimes I forget 
I'm curled up
in that worn-out spot on the stairs
where I always go
when I want to be as far away 
from you
as I can.

But sometimes I remember. 
And it hurts
again.
  

6.9.98

y o u


I find it so hard to believe
that you don't see me here.
I thought you were hiding,
but you are standing openly
in freedom,
unannounced.
How can you be so free?
I talk to you
but you don't hear me.
I know you, you know.
But you only stand 
in peace,
silently.
You're so beautiful.
I just want to tell you.
I want to know your secret
so I can be beautiful, too.
But you won't tell me. 
You simply stand
in perfection
without a word.
  

5.22.98

paradox

Why does life 
have to be so hard
when all I want 
is to be perfect?

6.4.98

remember...

Sweet memory, which grips my heart with such power,
And warms this body with remembrance;
Which fascinates my senses with its ghostly presence and unreal embrace, 
And stirs long-settled dust from corners in my mind I knew not I had;
Which fills my eyes with a nostalgic river
That cannot see if its ends are the crashing waterfall
Or the peaceful ongoing stream.
I know not whether I weep,
And if I do, if it be for joy in remembrance
Or sorrow for a loss.
My ears think they hear it, yet it is impossible;
My eyes think they gaze upon it, but a mere blinking sends the image away;
My nostrils breathe the fragrance deep, 
So that it excites the buds of taste,
Or is it just a passing breeze?
My skin tingles with the sensation of another's touch,
Yet nothing is there.
And while this heart inside sees all surrounding me,
My mind slays it and diminishes my poor tender heart's hallucination.
Too wonderful is it to have ever been real --
But was it ever at all?
I cannot tell, 
For now, like the cobwebs in my mind,
I have forgotten that sweet memory.
  

6.18.94

I Will Prevail


    I Will Prevail 
    Sittin' by the water 
    Of a lake I knew before 
    Feelin' all the pain & loss 
    I went through near these shores. 
    The memories flooded through me 
    Some sunny 
    Some too real
    But now I know I'm travellin' 
    On a road where I can heal. 
    The child has so many burdens 
    The adult 
    Knows even more
    Yet I can feel them lifting 
    As I sit along this shore. 
    I never knew the weight could lift 
    Or my heart could feel so light 
    And now I have a life to live 
    I'll fight with all my might! 
    This cycle will be broken 
    These chains will rust and fail 
    The only weight left on me 
    Is mine -- 
    I will prevail!!

YOU AND I

You sit all alone; miserable.
I awoke this morning.
You cry and complain; lonely.
I have a dream.
You long for company; sad.
I am feeling good.
You rant and rave; angry.
I define who I am.
You moan and groan; desperate.
I write you.
You receive my letter; hope.
I say, “I need you.”
You laugh and smile; joy.
I ask you to come,
Do you?
You and I
A possibility
Waiting
Soul mates or friends?
Waiting to be born;
You and I.

ALONE

Alone I’m alive.  Inside I cry.
Leave me alone.  I cry to the night.
Just leave me alone, let me be in my own little world.
You can’t see me-trembling in pain.
 Inside.
You can’t hear me-screaming.
 Inside.
You can’t touch me-burning in rage.
 Inside.
You can’t taste me-crying salty tears.
 Inside.
You can’t smell me-lost in terror.
 Inside.
So leave me alone.
Don’t touch me I’m alive.
Let me be.
Don’t taste me,
 I don’t want to die.
Silence.
Don’t feel me, in the darkness I can’t lose my soul.
No. Don’t see me, I want to be alone.
Don’t hear me, just let me go.
I’m still alive. Inside. Let me live.

THE KITCHEN

(A Poem About My Obsessive Compulsiveness)

I spend endless hours on my hands and knees.  Scrubbing.
Scrubbing.  Scrubbing.  Scrubbing. Scrubbing. Scrubbing.
The tiles on the floor shine everyone corner to corner.
Over and over I clean. First the ceiling. Then the walls.  
Then the cabinets inside and out. Then the all dishes, pots and pans. 
Counters next. 
Then floor once again. Last the sink I used.
I hope, I pray, I silently cry. This time it will be right.
This time he won’t get angry.
This time it will be perfect.
I won’t be punished. I won’t feel pain.
Over and over I clean once, twice, three times, ten, twenty, thirty times.
He’ll be home soon.  Please God just this once let it be okay.
It was never enough.
It was never enough.
Will it ever be enough?

Is The End Near?

Is the end near?
Does he love me?
Or the pretend person I created to make him happy?

The one that pretends to be happy with an hourly paid job and the one that
pretends to be content with a mediocre and sporadic sex life.  The woman who
ignores the pain his actions cause her, the lady who tries to hide all
unpleasant feelings from him and fails so miserably.

Does he know how I doubt his love? The anger I feel because of the
carelessly spoken words of love as if by habit.  The kisses hello and
good-bye that I have to be remind him to give her.  That woman who loves him
is I; but I don't even know who she is.

I use to dream of reaching the stars and him being by my side.  Lately at
night as I lay awake I wonder if I will find the strength to be alone.  No
house with a swing, no children, no dog, no dreams of chairs set on the
porch facing the same direction.

I have thought and wondered what would make me feel secure.
Secure in his love for me.

Would I learn as I think I would that he doesn't really want me, doesn't
really need me, doesn't really love me.
Or would he prove my fears unfounded with the birth of "our" child.

Reality is he doesn't even want a child with me.
So does this mean he doesn't love me?
I have nightmares of his leaving me alone and in my heart of hearts I dream
that at least in the end I could have a small piece of him with me in the
form of a child to love, as I love him.  But I fear that in the end I will
have nothing.

And in the end I will be alone.