Bpd. Poem by maria goodison

Twisted madness it over take my mind like weeds that never go.
Voice on top of voice, all shouting to have their say, never still, never quite, thunder on top of a drum.
Laughing when mistake are made and hiding behind each other when someone works it out that this is not the real person.
Trying to find away to explain why you jump on that chair at your grandparent funeral.
Explaining and explaining that more then one person lives inside your mind, body, drawing pitchers to prove that what was there is not there anymore.
Collapsed in stressful disgrace as no one really understands that you share your body and mind with 4 other people that all think they deserve the right to live.
Borderline personality disorder how little people know or how little people understand that sometimes it's impossible to the same woman you meet last night when things were a little strange.