Worms Meat

I’m sorry that I get lost,
And for whatever cost that conjures up for you.
Just hear me now when I say that it is never my intention to hurt you,
Just like the pain you often unconsciously & constantly impact upon me.
Drowning,
Suffocated by the waves of the sea,
Unable to speak,
Reach out,
Lungs first filled with dispair,
Now lacking oxygen and air,
No one anywhere,
To help me,
No one sees me,
No one hears me,
No rescue,
And even if…
No remedy,
So with great tragedy,
I am taken,
Before you awaken to the facts of BPD,
Recognise how your actions,
Or lack of,
Have affected me.
How you may have triggered me relentlessly,
Saying you’d be there,
But keeping your distance from me,
Making me feel a menace,
Because my times of despair don’t suit thee.
How you showered me with assumptions,
False testament that you care,
Would always be there.
No professional support,
Lacking supervision,
Troubled mind,
Troubled soul,
Constantly fighting,
In competition,
Against the dark.
Beginning to dream of the light,
The dark reigns to tight,
Engolfed me,
Strangulation,
Dumping me,
Asphyxiation,
Abandoning me eternally,
I die,
Fighting until the last breath of my life,
Which I have taken,
Keen to try the unknown,
As ripped apart,
My connection to this world no longer sewn.
Typically late,
Perhaps once gone my transparency shall be found,
And then you will hear my story,
And perhaps understand me,
Learn from me and my legacy,
Help others whom are like me,
As my archives will be available for eternity,
And I hope I won’t be bitter,
All will be forgiven,
Despite your triggers of rejection,
Abandonment,
Inability to understand when I needed you to help me,
Ultimately making worms meat of me.
I may leave this mortal coil,
But my soul shall shine eternally.