The Quiet Borderline 

Why I’m always so silent. In pic (Kurt Cobain)

 1 – My body shakes.

My head aches. 

I’ve been raped. 

And I’m going to fail. 

Because mind maims. 

Bullied under shame. 

Severe self hate. 

Can’t raise. 

Voice against. 

Madness chased. 

Hidden blades.

  

2 – Fine. 

I’m alright. 

Just a lost fight.  

Blurred sight. 

Now it’s a constant drive. 

Ugly body, pathetic mind. 

Miserable life. 

Opiate eyes. 

Pain behind. 

Tears dry. 

Masked lie. 

But why? 

Anxious to die.

3 – You will be gone soon. 

And I will lock my cocoon. 

Where I will bleed my doom.

So don’t find me and get confused. 

Because suicide is now a loop.

It’s becoming my ultimate truth. 

And I just can’t choose. 

What exactly do I have to prove? 

I’ve failed everything, whatever I’ve been through. 

So don’t look. 

I am a burning book. 

Which will soon. 

Turn to ashes, erasing my proof. 

My existence is mute.

And please don’t look back. 

I’ve already planned my attack. 

I’m sitting with a gun in my hand.

So don’t look back. 

I’m already trapped. 

4 – A woman who tried. 

She took my mask of disguise. 

I painted a picture which she defined. 

Hate which made me defiled.

The misery I tried to hide. 

A disgusting smile. 

Saw my soul through my eyes.

Withering ride.

But I, 

Left her because I, deserve to die. 

The quiet borderline. 

About to pull the trigger…grip on the gun; tight.

The Quiet Borderline.

Who never shined.

Is now terrorised.

Afraid to stay alive.

The Quiet Borderline.

Alone in night.

Jumped down from a height.

The Quiet Borderline.

Written By ‘PATIENT’ Stan.

Meaning – I wrote this to describe quiet borderline personality. Which is quite psychotically more self destructive because a typical BPD sufferer would exhibit acting out, where as a a quiet one will act in. Inducing pain upon themselves. They get unnoticed and it’s sometimes too late for them. 

It’s story about a guy who is struggling from such inner turmoil that he thinks he doesn’t deserve anyone in his life. He gets frightened when people try to get too close to him. He just maintains his distance and avoids contact. He’s sensitive about his scars. But not comfortable in his skin as people keep reminding him to pull his sleeves down. Providing him successfull nostalgia of misery & shame. He feels things intensely and that’s why hate getting attached to someone because he knows it will be a rollercoaster of agonising pain. He’s suicidal and thinks he deserves to die.

EAT (Enemy At Therapy)

Enemy Within.

No options.

Failed verifications.

In conclusion.

No questions.

Purging actions.

Bleeding preparations.
Lines of meth.

Self destructive test.

A confined measurement.

Absurdity fed.

Addictive threat.

Kill the help.

Of rehab shed.

Insanity progress.

Happiness theft.

Misery left.

Nothing felt.

Loneliness dealt.

Blades become best friends.

Oo don’t care about yourself.

 I hate me and my existence.

Shame won’t tolerate my presence.

I want to kill myself.
I can’t ever be loved.

Because I am too much.

I self destruct.

Cut my hands to feel numb.

I was played around with my trust.

Mind fucked.

Bad luck?

Absolutely rust.

Rage burst.

Ripping deep for fun.

Dimensions spun.

Crave is a wave of lust.

And you must.

Get it done.
Just for once tell me.

How many?

Benzodiazepine,

Would it take get me relieved.

Insanity feeds.

Mental disease.

Confidence depletes.

A rush when weak.

Felt when stomach is totally empty.

Critically.

Irregularity.

In variety.

It’s totally foul.

Hateful doubts.

Kilos of cocaine, nose drowned.

Black out.

Falling down.

On the ground.

Bleeding skin and dehydrated mouth.

Written by P.S ‘PATIENT Stan’

Fear And Loathing

The mind kills people when depression is on a full time job.

Losing all.

Slowly deform.

It’s your job.

To erase your cause.

Aggression faught.

Precisely called.

Self harm born.

Destructive thoughts.

Can’t control.

Mind vindictiveness propose.

Drag the blade, it’s the cure.

Fading anger, pain pure.

Silenced shore.

Dripping more.

Blood on the floor.

Lose control.

Closed doors.

Failing pattern.

Relapsing flattens.

Total motivation.

Starving purification.

Perverse addictions,

Slaughtering medications.

Anaesthetic sensation.

Survival negation.

An unfortunate situation.

Craving the sensation.

Failed distractions.

Mind distortion.

Fear & loathing progression.

Futile life destruction.

Written by P.S ‘PATIENT Stan’

S.A.S.H (Swimming After Self Harm)

Floating

1 – Make up, mirrors.

Silent killers.

A norm to fit better.

Why is our perception?

Fails when it assures vague redemption.

But that is just torture.

Weakened to surrender.

Words additionally pressures.

Destructive, vigorous measures.
2 – Cold blade.

Suffering pain.

Brutally maimed.

External hate.

Emotional drain.

Absurdily deranged.

On the face.

Slapped with hate.

Blood remains.

Suffering is just an escape.

Reality that you’ve framed.

But you’re just a waste.

Thoughts race.

Self evaluate.
3 – Isolate.

Pain induces escape.

Accept it that you’re afraid.

To live ahead is just not your way.

Suicidal rage.

Mind phase.

Considered again.

Nothing’s the same.

Erase your name.

Your existence, slowly fades.

So why not burn out in that case.

Tried to face.

Fear trembling in my veins.

Skin itching craves.

It’s the biggest mistake.

Picking up the razor sharp blade.

It’s shine seduced me & left me deranged.

Swimming after every cut made.

Blood cascades.

Seized up brain.

Numb the weight.

Dirty game.

Failed 

Written by P.S. 

Thin Discipline 

Thought patterns.

1 – Thoughts.

Fought.

Still not,

Concealment to chaos.

Dirty job.

Relapse fall.

Vicious call.

Deterioration to deform.
2 – Eat nothing.

All it takes is discipline.

Insanity drift.

Progressed to shift.

Starving will.

Hunger kill.

Slowly begin.

Breathe thin.

Negative binge.
3 – Tolerate.

Seeming to fail.

Pick up the blade.

Slash the pain.

Lacerate.

Fat Shame.

Self Hate.

Pathetic Waste.

Degrade.

Crave.

Again.

Can’t terminate.

This eyeless rage. 

Hands shake.

Anxious to mutilate.
4 – Motivation to dissociation.

Mind losing it’s formation.

Occupied obsession.

Agonising destination.

Purge redemption.

Sardonic variation.

Lethal provocation.

Cutting contemplation. 

Guilty exoneration.
5 – In session.

Stomped by depression. 

Waves of possession.

Anger suppression.

Erupting vibrations.

Mind toxification.

Corrupt perceptions.

Disciplined verifications.

Skin mortification.

Written by P.S – ‘PATIENT’ Stan 

Horrors Of Reality 

Addiction base

 

Man is totally greedy. 

Everyone’s an enemy. 

A business deal. 

Or captivating future breed. 

Self hate begins to feed. 

A disgusted feel. 

No empathy. 

No assurities. 

No hopefull deeds. 

  

The Horrors of reality. 

 

Burning every essence. 

Inside a predators presence. 

Failed system, creeping ignorance. 

Once again you totally depend. 

The blanket is inside the shelf. 

Take it out and survive one more day in hell. 

Pain is a good temperament.

It latches onto your belief. 

Can’t interpret the combustible heat. 

Now you can see. 

Closed eyes, in my dreams. 

 

I feel,  

The horrors of reality. 

 

Filled With Fat

Perfect is illusion.

1 – Don’t you understand? 

What fills you is fat. 

Godamn. 

Do what you can,  

Just overcome this expand.

With what you have.

Don’t you understand? 

Godamn. 

What fills you is fat.

 

2 – Prepare the mice. 

It will all serve right. 

Until the price. 

Is what we get to describe. 

Too easily to get bribed. 

Too easily madness drives. 

Insane enough that multiples. 

 

3 – Ruining your skin. 

This fat just begins. 

To cover up your shit.

The void is from within.

That needs to be filled. 

Or else it will just stay there like filth. 

Until that, crazy bitch will wipe off my grin.

And will start to feed my mind & my free will.

Slowly she would make me ill. 

Silently she would sit still.

Till her time is at peak and I must be killed. 

On peripheries of numerous thrills.

 

4 – Sleepy, not able to concentrate. 

I still need to lose a few more of my weight. 

But now I’m unable to get my head straight. 

It’s always the blame game. 

Haunting me again & again. 

Nights filled with severe stomach pain. 

Still starving because there’s no other way. 

I still need to lose a few more of my weight. 

Now when I even face food my thoughts run insane. 

Punished by myself by dragging a blade. 

Just to end that shame. 

I turned open, depression’s gate.

And blades became my addiction that never could be explained. 

 

1 – Don’t you understand? 

What fills you is fat. 

Godamn. 

Do what you can,  

Just overcome this expand.

With what you have.

Don’t you understand? 

Godamn. 

What fills you is fat.

Written By P.S