BPD- Personality in Poetry

When you’re on the border for more than a quarter

Normal is a meaningless line-

Then again, did it ever have meaning at all?

Sometimes on the precipice looking below,

Until I plummet way down deep

You have to live here on the border to truly know.

There’s fire in the hearth,

But it can’t singe me the way I like.

Theres’s ice hanging from the rafters,

But it can’t freeze out these eyes.

Sometimes I’m dulled just by the weight of it-

What good are feelings anyhow?

Come join me at the border but be careful!

It’s a dangerous place, you know.

 

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