Clareprunellpoetry

I carry a rage that will not fade, It waits in the dark for a choice I’ve made. Just under the skin, ready to ignite, Turning the smallest spark into spite. The energy spent just to hold control, To keep the beast in its deep, dark hole. I dread the day that it break free, The damage and ruin caused by me. I carry a sorrow that breaks my heart, A silent ache that tears me apart. The end of the world, the deepest despair, The heavy weight of how much I care. A book, a film, a passing dream, I weep for the people I’ve never seen. I carry a joy that hits like a high, A weightless rush right into the sky. A sudden warmth that glows inside, Where just for a moment I do not hide. If only this light were here to stay, To burn all the dark and keep it away. I carry a fear that feels like a strike, A sharp reminder of what I am like. A constant worry that I’m not the same, Drowned in trauma, sadness, and shame. The persistent voice inside my head, Dissecting every word I’ve said. I carry a terror of all that I’ve been, Of all that I am, and the damage unseen. How easily I could lose my grip, When triggers take hold, how fast I slip. I’m terrified of what they will see, When looking closely at someone like me. BPD strikes so hard and strong, Never right, always wrong. There is no middle, no calm, no slow, From zero to hundred in one sudden blow. How can they know the things I feel, When everything strikes twice as real? I have no say in these demands, I can only pray someone understands.