So I am going to Ralph’s to buy a chicken. Seems like I’ve been trying to buy this chicken for almost 4 weeks now. The truth is I keep going to Ralph’s but not my class. I can’t seem to find the chicken. I’m missing the class I love for a few reasons, but one being this darn assignment. The one with the hard consonants. Come on chicken, produce!

I am STUCK.

STUCKARONI FROZEN CALCIFIED

Yes, stuck.

It feels so familiar.

You know what else feels familiar? Agonizingly familiar? Dealing with a friend that suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder. She’s not the first in my life and I’m not ready to discuss my first. But yes, BPD. But do they suffer? Or is it only us? The ones that love them? The ones that are the recipients of their so called Love.

Sorry if I offend you speaking about mental illness in the way that will follow, but this is my pen, my paper and my VOICE. BPD. Let’s begin.

CASTLES where GREEN GRASS GROWS, FUN and FROLICS.KITTENS PURR, PUPPIES WAG, CUPCAKES, CANDY, CUDDLES, GIGGLES, HUGS. KISSES.

HOOKED

ATTACKED. PUSHED. KICKED to the COLD CONCRETE.CORNERED.KNOCKED OUT. CUT with their SWORD of PAIN. GUTTED.

I COWER. CRY. BACK UP, BLOCK, PLAY POSSUM. DOOMED to WALK the PLANK. My SOUL BREAKS. BEATEN by their STORM.I’m PROVOKED. I CRACK. . PUSHED to the BRINK. My CRANIUM HEAVES. CRASHING into the KITCHEN CABINET. Over and Over. Take that you FUCK.CUNT,PISS, BITCH. I’m SICK too.

SICK. and SIC. They PANIC, CLUTCH, GRAB, GIVE A TOURNIQUITE of PRESSURE and GUILT.

PURSUED one day and sent PACKING the next.

You’re STUCK KID.

CRUMBLED

A CAVERNOUS CORPSE.

BPD

TOXIC. no CURE

A PERSUASIVE PATTERN of INSTABILITY in INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS.

A CANYON of inner VOIDNESS.

paranoia complex.

you are POWERLESS. PROTECT yourself. YOU PLAY YOU PAY, you’ll end up a PARTIAL PERSON. a CARCASS.

.

HOOKED in

KICKED OUT

HOOKED in

KICKED OUT

CUNNING , CUTTING, CALLOUS, CANIVING,PROJECTING,

YOU CLAW, GRASP,

PULVARIZED,

RUN, PROTECT, CUT OFF.

TRAPPED. STUCK.

No MORE.

THE END