I wrote this in April of 2002 when I was depressed and felt empty. Chronic feelings of emptiness is a trait of living with BPD. It’s rough sometimes.

I’m at a very bad place
I struggle and struggle
to come out of this miserable and horrible place
But somehow feel confined
With a helluva strong glue
at the bottom of my pitiful feel
Stuck to the pit of here( my life)
I continue to
Dream and dream
The impossible dream
To someday become unstuck

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