The Art of Murder

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

I’m difficult to love and be around because I’m generally depressed and off putting and my pretty face can’t make up for it

[boopicide]

i don't wanna die, i just wanna never have existed in the first place.

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

Fun fact: I have always felt as if my existence was a mistake because my older sister who was very loved- very perfect passed away right before I was born. She deserved to live more than I ever did.

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

I dreamt we wrote a poem together

I erased it in the morning

[poetryforall]

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

I’m clashing against the sharp waves

Hoping to predict the next one

Each time it swallows me

Knocking me off my feet

I submerge into the water

But it doesn’t want to accept me

The next one spits me out

I can feel the rejection

I can feel the wind fighting in my direction

Creating a barrier I cannot across

Not even if I float

Not even when I break through the waves

But somehow

I don’t feel stuck

I don’t feel the water pulling me back

I feel it challenging me

To go forward

To discover a new depth

Where my feet don’t touch the bottom

And for some reason I’m confident

I’m confident the wave won’t drown me

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

When love has nothing to give

It takes

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

I’m about to be a mother and its scaring me to death

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

You see me

But you see…

I don’t recognize my reflection in your eyes

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

For failing so miserably with your tongue

You are pathetic

I crave words, to be heard

And you are nothing

But mute

- the silent one

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

Objective realities

Deceptive Dualities

I roam the streets filled with,

Protective personalities

No one here is who they seem to be

He/She/They

They’ve all gone astray

- thoughts / 2:13 am

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

She liked muted colours

“Light pink”

“Powder blue”

“Soft peach”

Those kind of colours

She liked that they weren’t too bold

Or too bright

She wanted them silent

“Pale sage”

“Light Greige”

“Cream blush”

A little gentle kind of colours

Her world wasn’t painted in boldness

Neither was her canvas of delicate hues

But something inside her

Craved more than peach sunsets and powder blue skies

No-

Something inside her craved

“Crimson red”

“Royal purple”

“Forest green”

Crimson red, like the fire in her soul

Deep blue guiding her to haunting waters

There she found herself

In a tender embrace

Where blush met crimson

And greige gave away to emerald’s grace

She held them all, the loud and the still

Muted whispers and vibrant cries

And accepted-

The harmony of light and dark

- Her colours

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

There is a person inside me who is good, kind, extremely intelligent, creative and soft-hearted

But she shares a room with her evil twin who is mean, manipulative, angry and bitter

I called them the borderline roommates.

It’s been quite some time after my bpd diagnosis, enough time to understand it and put it in this analogy. So here’s a story about the borderline roommates.

There’s the original roommate, let’s call her taffy. She’s the first to reside in this apartment. Taffy has always been a fun-loving happy person. She is funny, she likes to do art and cook… happy things you know? Taffy kept inviting people to come over and hangout so she could share her happiness with them. You’d think she was desperate but no she was just lonely but not in a super sad way. She just wanted some company you know? One day somebody breaks into her apartment. They break things, steal, hurt Taffy in many many ways. She survives it for the first time, she tries to forget it ever happened and continues being her jolly self. Then the break ins kept happening again and again. Taffy couldn’t take it anymore and decided to get a roommate who can protect her and accompany her so she could keep living her jolly life. The roommate was like Taffy, but the opposite of her. She shared in her passions but she was darker, a little gothic. Let’s call her Hollow. Hollow cried a lot, she got angry often but Taffy knew she needed Hollow in case someone decided to break in again. Finally they had visitors but Hollow would scare them away. She’d say she has the best intentions and that it was only to protect Taffy but she would take it a bit too far. Eventually, Taffy lost control and Hollow started making all the decisions. She wouldn’t let people in and if they got in or got too close to Taffy, Hollow would rip them apart- limb to limb. One day Taffy and Hollow had a fight about this. Taffy wanted Hollow to just take a chill pill because instead of protecting her she was hurting her. Hollow said “Why are you so keen on letting these people in? All they do is hurt you” and Taffy said it was alright as long as she had company. Hollow got furious and hurt Taffy, really really bad. She thought if Taffy enjoys getting hurt from others the only way to stop it is if Hollow hurts her instead, to scare her into never letting others in again. A reminder of the pain. Of course it was a toxic relationship but they lived together. No matter how many times Taffy tried to kick Hollow out of the apartment, Hollow would argue that the space was hers as much as it was Taffy’s.

If you don’t see the metaphor now then you definitely don’t have bpd, but you can try to understand it. Taffy and Hollow are the two sides of a BPD brain. Good and bad, nothing in between. One wasn’t always there but she was brought in for a reason and just won’t go away now. So then it just becomes a matter of who someone appeals to more. Do they try to talk to Taffy? Or Hollow? It’s really simple. If it’s a good thing, Taffy will be there and if it’s bad Hollow will.

The difference is Taffy is real, she was there first. You can’t change things and never have Hollow exist, but you can reason with her and get around Taffy instead. Either way, it sucks to have bpd.

- bpd diaries

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

If you rip me open,

Promise to stitch me back with more than what you found inside

[half-a-corpse-half-a-poet]

-Zoë Lianne

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

You cannot expect love without violence,

For love is the most violent act of all

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

She swept her petals under the rug

And welcomed his thorns

He came, empty handed as always

But a mouth full of bickering

She listened, or rather faded

Slipping inside her head, a world of her own

Where her dreams could grow, her desires on show

He isn’t there, he is but merely

Somewhere in the back, away from the river

Leaning onto some insignificant tree

And just as she begins to breathe

She’s snapped into reality

But at-least now, his bickering is done for the day

- the sacrifices she made for her family

[theartofconvictionandmurder]

The map of his face was so carefully drawn

And yet it could not depict the ocean in his eyes

- My baby got pretty eyes