On the border

Let me introduce myself,
I'm borderline
Or emotionally intense, or unstable
Depending on which doctor you talk to.

Your nerves are exposed from the fire raging within
You're sensitive and scared and scarred and silently screaming
Everything is a deep blur that doesn't make sense
And it's hard to explain something that you don't understand

They say that us borderlines see the world in black and white
But I disagree, not entirely
It's more like I see all the colours at once
It's too much to take in and I can't adjust
It's like fireworks except you are the fireworks
Out of control, so much blue and green and red
And unrelenting noise
BANG
You are not good enough
BANG
I hate myself BANG everyone just puts up with you BANG is suicide selfish or self sacrificing?

The colours are pretty though, if I could just make some sense of them.
Let's see
Blue- the ocean. You can't tread water. Terror fills your mind and overflows and the mantra of "you are not worthy of love" spills overboard onto lips that are not worth kissing. And nothing scares you more than rejection.
Green- jealousy of course. Why can't you just be normal, what is normal? Not me that's for sure
And red.. the colour of anger. And relief.. or is it pain? I think they might be the same. It's the colour that runs down your arm, brutal graffiti on a freckled canvas.

Punishment is sometimes necessary, and you don't have the discipline to stop.

The worst is yet to come

Silence. Silence so loud that it overwhelms you
Why can't I feel anything?
Is it possible to die from hypersensitivity?
Am I a walking corpse?
No, no, you're crazy. You've lost your mind
You're borderline
And everyone knows
It's written in the scars you created
In your distorted thoughts and fractured voice
But I just don't care anymore.
There was a time when I would have.
But this moment is not that time.

When you look in the mirror,
You don't recognise the image staring back
A silhouette of an empty shell of a girl not worth saving
Just scars and a vacant stare
There's nothing there

What a stark contrast from the emotional explosion
You felt just a moment ago
As different as morning and night
And that's the thing, these feelings can last for just that long
Or for weeks. You never really know.

Everyone feels it differently. But everyone feels.
I'm one of the ones that keeps it inside.
Self control is what they call it.
I call it petrified.
I can't let anyone see,
Though I'm self aware enough to know it seeps out.
Actually, I'm extremely self aware.

I find it hard to talk to people,
Just in case I reveal too much torture.
But I'll tell you something,
I'm borderline,
And "I promise", I lie "I'm fine."