When the mask slips and falls away

behind the maskAm I who they see,

The persona or the real me,


In the mirror I do look,

Can’t find the thing they took,


Lost and lone a masked man,

Confused alone without a plan,


I have no clue,

Not sure what to do,


So I wipe away the mask,

Revealing my damaged past,


Scared and disfigured I stand,

My hopes and dreams on shifting sand,


I wrap away my broken wings,

And put aside wishful things,


Tears of blood run down my face,

What dragged me to this place,


Naked and abused,

No wonder I blow my fuse,


My voice once silent,

Now loud and violent,


Trapped inside my head,

Wishing that I was dead,


A choice now made,

The game of life must be played,


I slip on the mask,

This time I hope it will last,


Dressed in hidden armour,

Becoming a lyrical charmer,


I am no longer me,

But content with the person they see,

One day I will die,

Ready and happy to end this lie.

About Mr BPD

About Author. I have Borderline Personality Disorder and as a writer and poet I explore my madness through the creative arts. I have a personal belief that even in darkness light exists and it is a personal responsibility to always seek the light and I find the light in creating something.
This entry was posted in BPD- poems, POEMS and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply