I Am The Shadow – A Poetry Video

Shared this last year.  Thought I’d share it again.  This is a video of a poem I wrote in 1990, before my diagnosis of BPD.  I think it describes really well what it felt like, and still does sometimes to live with this disorder.

Enjoy!

 

Shane Koyczan – Blueprint for a Breakthrough

Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long perform his spoken poem “Blueprint for a Breakthrough”

My Friend, My Crutch

This picture was chosen by Cathy at Lonely Lotus:

 

*** Possible Trigger Warning***

Untitled Poem 2

This illustration was selected by my Facebook Friend Kate at Borderline Personality A Thousand Origami Cranes:

 

I Am The Shadow – Illustrated

This illustration was chosen by my Facebook Friend Cathy at  Lonely Lotus:

 

My Poetry Galleries

Please check out my galleries of my poems

 

on Pinterest here:  http://www.pinterest.com/BPDStigmaFree/my-poetry-gallery/

or on Facebook here:  https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.788465864502436.1073741846.627381243944233&type=3

 

Thank you,

– Joyce.

Poetry by Landon Capagli

I received this beautiful poem by Landon Capagli today:

 

Am I in the right place,
Wearing the right face?

Have I made the choice,
Spoken clearly,
In the right voice?

Am I portraying who I am,
Or who they want me to be?

Is this really what I want to do,
Do I even have the choice to chose?

Am I really doing this for myself,
Or just someone else?

Is it worth being miserable,
Just to feel successful?

Is making more,
Worth feeling less?

If I walk away,
Do I fail the test?

Is this really what is best?

I cannot stand this feeling,
That is sitting on my chest!

I am struggling with myself,
And no one else.

I’m calling out,
And in need of help.

I am at my end,
And I can no longer pretend.

This is my life! I have tried to compromise,
Rationalize, justify and even deny.

Who will win this battle going on inside?

The person I am,
Or the person they want me to be?

Is this just all my BPD?

Why has all of this had to happen to me?

Untitled Poem

I wrote this a few months ago:

I never feel like I am strong,
I never feel like I belong,
And everything I do is wrong,
Why can’t I just be normal?

– By Joyce Savage.

I Am The Shadow

I am the shadow,
I exist in a world of light,
Blending into the darkness of night.

My face you cannot see,
My expressions, sometimes misleading.

If you hear a whisper in the wind,
It may be me.

I am the shadow,
I exist in a world of sounds, good and bad.
Of laughter,
Crying,
Shouting,
Singing.

You think that I feel nothing,
No love,
No hate,
No anger,
No fear,
No pain.
But you are wrong.

You think that I do not cry,
But I weep silently.
You cannot see the tears that slide down my cheeks,
But they are there.

I am the shadow, you cannot touch,
Always within sight but never within reach.

I am the shadow, afraid to trust the light for it distorts me.
Please forgive me if I trick you,
I cannot control it.

I long to live in the light,
To be held and loved,
But I am only a silent shadow,
Watching but unable to take part in it all,
What others do, I can only dream of.

So I lurk in corners,
Ignored,
Misunderstood.
Always waiting for the night to come,
Always dying but never dead.

I am the shadow, I have no friends,
Even in a crowd, I’m all alone.
Existing in somber shades of gray,
A lonely shadow,
I’m doomed to stay.

– By Joyce Savage, 1990.

Here is a video of this poem:

To This Day by Shane Koyczan

https://makebpdstigmafree.wordpress.com/to-this-day-by-shane-koyczan/

The Poem | Ψ Dare To Dream…

The Poem | Ψ Dare To Dream….

My Friend, My Crutch

*** POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING!***

My Friend, My Crutch

I have you in case I need you,
But since I have you, I don’t need you anymore.
But it feels so good knowing that you’re there if I do need you,
That you can make all my pain go away.

You make me feel safe,
I can lean on you,
My crutch, my support,
My friend, my enemy,
My salvation,
My security blanket beneath my pillow, where I rest my head.

I wish I didn’t need you,
That I could cope on my own,
But I feel too weak.

So I retreat into my mind,
An endless soap opera,
Much better than the painful real life I lead every day.
Where I control the players,
I control the plot.
If only I could control these thoughts and emotions that overtake my mind every day.

Maybe someday I won’t need this crutch anymore,
Maybe I can learn to cope.
Until then, I know I can depend on you,
That you won’t betray me like all the others around me.
My crutch, my support,
My friend, my enemy,
My salvation,
My security blanket.

By Joyce Savage.

Articles and Handouts – BPD Central

Very in-depth article.  Includes poems and accounts from BPD sufferers.  Trigger warning on page.

Articles and Handouts – BPD Central.

Untitled Poem 2

I wrote this poem recently when I was feeling very depressed and alone.  I felt so hopeless and misunderstood.  It seemed like no one cared how I felt.  I felt totally invalidated.  I’ve been feeling a lot better since then.  I hope this poem helps people without BPD realize how intense our emotions are.

——————————–

Every morning, I put on my armour,
To protect me from their poisoned tongues,
Each arrow pierces my soul,

With each one I die a little more each day,
How much dying can one take till they are truly dead?

I am not full of life,
I am not dead,
I am numb and feel nothing.
I am past feeling the pain,
Eventually you don’t feel anymore.

How does one feel so hollow, so empty?
A shell of a person?

How do you get past pain to nothingness?
How do you feel less than nothing?

What a curse it is,
To take on the world’s pain upon your shoulders,
Their anger, their fear,

To feel the darkness of a million souls,
All screaming in your head,
And filling your heart.

To feel it as your own.

And you can never stop the floodgate of emotions that wash over you,
Consuming you,
Draining you.

Dragon flames licking at your heels,
As you try to climb out of the hell that’s your life,
Only to be pulled back by your demons to be tortured anew,
When will it end?

– By Joyce Savage.

Untitled Poem

Untitled

I never feel like I am strong,
I never feel like I belong,
And everything I do is wrong,
Why can’t I just be normal?

– By Joyce Savage.

Lonely Lotus

Lonely punished boy, inside a lost broken man.
Love hate, black white, blades of a rotating fan.
… Vulnerable, angry, impulsive child.
Compliant, detached, man gone wild.

Strong hands, dirty legs, memories turn demons in my head,
Whiskey breathe, broken plates, Never safe in my child bed.
A child drunk, crying for a tortured brother,
Drink to powder, tears for a screaming mother.

Child grows to man, never taught to be,
Past memories fade, lost in a dark sea.
A single blade bent, grass in the sun,
My worth in my head, a loaded gun.

A sound drifts across, someone’s fence,
My gaze on a door, it makes no sense.
A child in the distance, a horrible scream,
My sleepless night’s, now a waking dream.

An ember hisses, the end of my smoke,
My thoughts are lost, unforgivingly choke.
A lone fly lands, a forgotten sore.
Feet frozen still, minds dirty floor.

A loved one touches, cold numb arm,
The black dog patrols, nasty charm.
A broom sweeps slowly, a mess I made,
Self esteem melts, the suns hateful shade.

Just Leave me alone, I’m no longer home.
Please come back, so lonely in my dome.
I love you I hate you, I want my Mother.
Ugly and stupid, wanted by no other.

A slight breeze lands, a stroke to my face,
My confusion seduced, thoughts lost in space.
No respite now, a tormented soul,
A soul battered, empty black hole.

An army of ants weave, a broken mans madness,
My soul pulled deeper, silence of endless sadness.
A lone bird chirps, a sound unclear,
My time to decide, paralysed by fear.

A young woman talks, so kindly to me,
My anger blinds me, Kindness I don’t see.
A star sign talks, opportunities ahead,
My dreams nothing, simply dead.

Cold toilet patiently waits, I cannot give,
My pessimism reinforces, I do not live.
A bang comes, from deep within the house,
Courage shakes, a disease riddled mouse.

A cold sheet lays, naked ugly skin,
Sadness released, tears of his sin.
A car drives past, veins of speed,
Paranoia suffocates, solitude I need.

A gush of water, a crescendo of sound,
I search frantically, I can not be found.
For a moment I touch, a single hair.
Panic spirals now, utter despair.

Just Leave me alone, I’m no longer home.
Please come back, so lonely in my dome.
I love you I hate you, I want my Mother.
Ugly and stupid, wanted by no other

A shake that builds, an uncontrollable state,
Dogs breathe rancid, laying more bait.
A head that hurts, life time of pain,
Pacing in circles, lost in the rain.

A voice of concern, I have no feelings,
My eyes dart wildly, cold bedroom ceiling.
Always hopeless, I want it to end.
Perception distorted, decisions bend.

A stomach starved, a greedy dog,
Lungs suffocated, self loathing smog.
Light switches on, voices in my head,
My fear explodes, I crawl into bed.

I lay motionless, a beast on my chest,
The dog’s eyes watching, can i rest.
A storm of painful impulses, emotions untamed,
Denial a strong heartbeat, loved ones so blamed.

The dogs lingering smell, a burning nose,
Thoughts of time, people and place I chose.
A heart that pounds, an enteral ache,
A good man I know, I will never make.

Mood on a swing, lonely cold park.
Face a mask, feelings in the dark.
Worthless and defective, I’m to blame.
Running or screaming, a protective game.

Just Leave me alone, I’m no longer home.
Please come back, so lonely in my dome.
I love you I hate you, I want my Mother.
Ugly and stupid, wanted by no other.

I am my life’s lotus, destined to bloom,
From mud to sun, escaping the gloom.
This is not my own, it’s all our story,
To find oneself, your beautiful glory.

By Jason Carmichael.

Check out his FaceBook page here:

https://www.facebook.com/thelonelylotus?ref=stream&hc_location=stream

Poem – My BPD Existence

Day in the life of a Busy Gal...

I do not live
I just exist
What a view
A distorted twist
The outside world
All they can see
Pretty, happy, smiley me
Tidy house, clean and clothed
Always busy, always posed
No fresh cuts
To raise their tuts

But inside nothing matters
Torn apart she shatters
Hurt in ways even she can’t see
Would anyone else want to be me?

Wallow
Unable to swallow
Smoke and drink to stave the hunger
Empty, numb
Disgusting self-pity
I don’t deserve your sympathy
Lie to myself that I am fine
Automatic pilot all the time
As long as nothing shows
Even with the hang of my clothes

Body shrinking
Mind unthinking
Write all day
But do not speak
Hideaway

Lonely
But never alone
Wearing BPD like a crown
Hate it, hate me
We’re one and the same can’t you see?
My life, my love
All one day end
Confide your feelings…

View original post 328 more words

Exhaustion Poem

This is how I feel every single day:

http://borderlinelife.tumblr.com/image/46908984303

Strong enough to fall apart