Clareprunellpoetry

You’re handed a diagnosis, given a name, A way to find others who share the same pain. You look for your people, expecting a match, Till your other condition throws off the catch. They’re so much like you in most every light, Yet something about it is never quite right. Their borderline mirrors the storm in your head, But OCD changes the path that you tread. They hit the same triggers, feel the same strain, But their splitting subsides every now and again. While OCD turns the whole world black and white, Trapping your mind in a permanent fight. They burn in the fire, then watch it go cold, While I’m bound by rules that I’m forced to uphold. Their storm is a wave that eventually clears, Mine is chained to the law of my compulsions and fears. You fixate and strive for absolute control, While raw, reckless impulse takes its full toll. That persistent quiet voice nagging away, Forces your hand when you try to delay. You don’t have just one noise inside to contend, BPD’s emotions, impossible to bend. While OCD dictates each order and flaw, Until its cruel voice becomes absolute law. Rules written deep into all that you do, Every moment and thought dictated, forced through. While BPD screams at the raw, burning sight, OCD holds the whip and keeps the grip tight. I thought that a name would finally set me free, A crowd where I’d fit and just learn how to be. But standing among them, the truth becomes clear, I’m a creature apart, with no place even here.