Dim.

23. BPD BLUES.

I'm thinking about how I said,

"You'd be better off."

And I knew it was true.

I'm thinking about how you said,

"That's that shit I hate about you."

Now I'm thinking I hate me too.

I'm thinking about how I care so much.

About everything around me.

But how it backfires always in my face.

I'm thinking about how it felt to know you.

But now I feel as if I never did.

That I'm losing sight of everything.

I just needed a body,

Somebody to call my own.

But I latch on like a leech.

Til' there's nothing left to go from.

And I fuck up so much.

I'm tired.

I just want to feel.

Anything but pain.

Something that's actually real.

I'm losing weight.

I'm feeling less and less like me.

I'm thinking I'm disassociating.

I'm thinking I'm depressed.

I'm thinking there's no place for me.

I'm thinking I'm a mess.

I need to stop thinking.

But my brain won't let me rest.

I'm thinking you shouldn't know me.

I think that's for the best.