A poem on my BPD (dissociative PTSD). It took me 10 minutes to write.

Volcanic eruptions and violent storms

Unhealed traumas in physical form

An unstable mood which swings from high to low

Where you relive traumatic events only you know.

Heavy hail and frozen snow,

From the next icicle of your next anger blow.

Triggered by a reminder of what hurt your soul,

Your brain reacts – your outlook black as coal.

Shattering thunder and piercing light,

Haunts our nightmares in the dead of night.

You wake up sweating full of fear,

Fighting for safety but no one’s near.

Rolling clouds and silent rain

Fogs our memory with tears and pain.

Stuck in the dark corners of your solemn mind,

Your trauma is real but those around you are blind.

You can’t feel happy,

You can’t feel sad.

You can only react,

Which makes everyone mad.

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