Silly me. B. P. D.

What did the doctor say?

Dismissive lines

Dear you’ll be fine

Clear he’s got no idea

Been the story since I can remember

To school a bottle of orange juice

Generous splash of vodka

Since I was fourteen.

The mess thereafter

Should be long ever after

Forgotten and trodden into mud


Hey I’m fun mum.

I’m the run mum

Marathons and disco queen

Make-up at 7am

Party til whatever when

I’ll be your forever glamorous friend.

I’m the surprise

The laugh never dies

I’m here to laugh til the end.

But sometimes. It shadows the BPD.

Ha ha It’s just me.

Wanting back my personality

Its like someone’s playing a game

Pull it back yeah steady, take aim

Take a hit .. nice..

feel okay for a bit.. maybe twice

But why its really doing it you see


Just to rob me of my personality.

Jack and Jill fight up the hill

Have a drink yeah or take a pill

Anyway they keep up the play

And all they wanna do you see

Without you having a clue you see


Know they’ve robbed you of your personality.

So ignore the knock

Turn the key in the lock

Absorb the pain like freezing rain

Surfing the inevitable strain

Turn it into something you control

Get out the hole you’re in

And it


Simply. You win.

Day 5 sober.

My scribe..

My scribe today is a runner

I’m calling her that

Her title today

Though. She has fought

many others on the way

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Maybe I’m older

She is however

Our enterprise

She is however.

Today’s spice.

Sprinkle it fondly

With glee

Hope and ambition

Sprinkle with love

Within you for sure

It’s a given.

From London

With love.

Make up

The noise inside my ears

Least it breaks up the tears

As they’re falling down down down

After too many years

Confusion loss and fears

And me falling down down down

Time to get up

Make it up

Face up

to my fears

Gotta get myself outta bed

stop all this worry in my head

Put on my make up

As I’m making it today

Going to make it up today

Trying again…

Gotta keep at this trying

No sense in shutting out the dying

The cost, they have no mummy

My counsellors words, not funny

So here on day two we are again

Sobriety attempt one hundred and ten

You can do this. Keep at it.

For them. For them. For them.

Dealing now with nausea and sweats

A body aching a mind upset

Mouth dry but spitting torrets

It’s time though for no regrets.

Sobriety attempt one hundred and ten.