Bpd Poems Novels & Stories

The flowers were blooming again. A month ago, I would have thought it was beautiful. Now it just looks away. Like it belongs to someone I am not the person I was anymore. The poison changed me. Being betrayed changed me. Being alone changed me. There are still times when my thoughts are cloudy. Times when my memories are all mixed up. Times when I still hear voices that're not there. Those times are getting fewer and farther between. Every day, I am becoming more like myself. That is what really scares me.

She read the poem on the topmost page: Blurry eyes, in a haze, Cry silently near the window, Go without speaking for days, Written words are all that remain. What did I do wrong? You call me a disgrace. Sleep with pretty women, perfect bodies Yet you dare show me that face? I sit by my lonesome, Never a hair out of place, Temptation walks by, You get in the way. Dismay, disarray, I seek comfort, The warmth of a stranger's arms,

You know, I’d like to brush your hair when things go ugly, as in when a tsunami hits the seawall and there’s no one to fix your hair out of fear. I will celebrate your eyes’ uncalculated blink as it might change the season from tinder-parched mornings to being 84 and still writing you poems. You know, I’d like to see you cry, laugh at people off to work, because you’re edged to clear the skies of jinx and throat-clogged pretensions. The paddling mallards, oh, I want to count

"There's a poem there I'm going to Recite it." Bryan looked hesitant, he opened the book and gazed back at me. "In loneliness, I find my home Where shadows dance, and darkness roams My heart is empty, my soul is worn For I am alone, with no one to call my own My mother died, and my father blamed Me for her death, with a heart so ashamed I wrote this poem, to cope with the pain Of being alone, with no one to love again I had my grandmother to rely on So I pray every night for her to live long

had crafted a peculiar poem that, in its eccentricity, managed to evoke a faint smile from Maddy. "A bear hugging a jar of honey flies surrounding a pile of dung, you are the most beautiful pearl in the world, I have been peeking at you as a dung beetle since a previous life, without you, I wouldn't know what beauty is, you are the treasure that makes a dung beetle delusional." The whimsical nature of the poem provided a momentary reprieve, a diversion from the heartache that lingered in the room. However, the distraction was short-lived as a video call invitation from this peculiar "Annoying Genius" appeared on the screen.

In the school, when Lauren and Daphne were still chatting excitedly, a handful of mud fell from the sky and landed on the two of them. "AHH!" The two of them hurriedly stood up, shaking off the sand. .... .... Do you know a life of loneliness and one filled with pain, living a life with nothing to gain, Surrounded by darkness, overwhelmed with shame. A life without peace with no one to blame. Do you know of a place unseen, A place that holds only shattered dreams, A place filled with sorrow with no end in sight, I am given this gift each and every night. Do you know of a place so cold,

Still unsigned. She didn’t even wait to go inside. Standing on her apartment steps in the warm afternoon sun, she unfolded it with trembling fingers. You look for freedom in places you once felt safe— in clinics, in crowds, in borrowed laughter. But have you ever asked the wind why it returns to the sea? Or the stars why they wait for the dark? You are not a girl meant for cages. Not for golden rings or glass castles. You are wildfire beneath silk. You are every unspoken dream I never dared to write—until now.

A few times, I've woken up to a paper next to me with a sketch or poem on it. The sketch is of a rose shaped like a heart. It's truly beautiful. I smile at the sketch and then go to the poem. I want to cling to you Hold onto your body Not release you for a moment As life becomes a tsunami Threatening to drag me away from you Drowning me in the darkness While holding you in the light Burry me underground while You stand above it Don't let go As you're the reason to fight To survive In this world That tries to break me

Her sister works shifts at the hospital, and her shifts always end at that time of the day—early evening, stuffed somewhere between late afternoon and twilight time. Now that she's far away from her stepfather, has her sister to take care of her, I thought I'd ask her if she had told anyone else about the episodes, if she'd told her sister. Basically, if she wanted to report it to the police. She only shook her head vigorously. So vigorously, that I knew that it wasn't really an answer she was giving to me. She was trying to expel the bitter memories that had come up violently with the questions, that I had triggered. How when someone asks me about the tiger-stripes etched on my arms to elbo

I said. I have heard about bipolar victims, saw them in movies one time but I never understood such kind of mania. And now, I just found out that Peter allegedly has bipolar. I began forming a mental picture of what he must have gone through all this while. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. I just met him and I was feeling sorry for him. I thought about Emjay. He never called nor texted and neither did I. "Osifa and I spoke today. " announced my mother. "Through mama Ajabo's phone? " I said. "Yea." she replied. "She's fine Fetty." added my mother. "I know." I said with a smile. "I am feeling sleepy. Goodnight Fetty. " she said then laid close to Tami and was soon snoring lightly. My