I hold back all the things that make me feel alive. I hold back all the words I know to use when I've heard a lie. I allow myself to hurt because all I know is pain. I allow myself to hurt and cry in place of happiness. Because it's reliable place to live. I'm sorry but happiness, it's unpredictable to say the least. It's finding love and hoping and praying it'll stay. It's codependency when love goes astray. It's fake joy and fake tenderness. No genuine behaviors. It's getting tired of holding things together. Of being strong. It's an unreliable place to live. Happiness is uncertainty living in your brain. Like a bug like a vulture preying on your kin. It's disgusting in the way diabetes comes from chocolate. It's not as forgiving as putting a band-aide on your heart and washing your hands of your loss.
Happiness is unreliable. Pain never fails. Hate fills my heart. I'll always be a mess.
YOU ARE READING
Dim.
PoetryTired of trying to be everything. Trying to be perfect. Wrong paths and wrong people and missed opportunities. Am I letting my mental illness take over my life? A look into the mind of a BPD, Anxiety ridden woman. With no identity but her Panic. W...
