Here are a few more posts for the Nat’l Poetry Month contest. Have you sent in your submission? You have until the end of the month. Click here for info about how to enter and PRIZES: http://samanthaschutz.net/site/?p=597
BPD in OKC, 29
I can’t sew
but I know I still love you.
I may be dead inside,
but I’m still living for you.
I am broken,
but you don’t know you broke me.
My heart keeps bleeding,
but I can’t sew myself back together.
I see no hope,
but I am not giving up.
Times are tough,
but things can always get better.
A.M. Young, age 22
Confused in the tug of war,
The emotional war that I fight with
Everyday, every movement watched
Like a hawk preying on the weak
The confusion never ceases
Even when I think I have it “figured out”
And the emotions run high
Whenever one becomes curious
My sanity is my warfare
My sexuality is my battle
Just one of those struggles
The one that never controls me
That cannot keep me down
So I ask myself
Do I have it “figured out?”
No, but I don’t want to…
Because the hawk
So strong and harsh
Never caught up to me
[young hunger for beautiful]
she looks at her pale skin and her beautiful eyes
and she loves her bones and her skinny thighs.
she idolizes her way of being barely there
and she is captivated by her stare.
she looks at her with disgust
as she so clearly does not add up,
and she feels the purge coming on
as she rids herself of bodily harm.
she is empty and light,
begging for beauty to grasp her
and hold her tight.
she loses inches off her waist
as she sees her gaze fade away.
she runs miles towards her direction,
desiring more attention.
she wants to see her reflection in her eyes.
she is only skin and bones,
the image she craves most.
she is beautiful,
and she sees her.
she looks just like her,
and together they waste away.
someday hope will speak confidence to her disbelief,
and she will see new beauty.
i will recognize her smile and know
she is happy and healthy.
someday she will find healing.
beauty is on its way.