How do I explain this disorder, like two people live inside you? We are the fleshy definitions of dichotomy, Red Blood cells and skin that tears like wrapping paper. Humans were not meant to live between extremes, like a War Zone. Women with desolate, tired eyes like mines, live through polar extremes. Our emotions are active napalm, ready to explode at the slightest touch.

I love you so intensely I will die for you - I hate you, I hope your Mother dies, ya dog and children too! I am sexy, look at me, Sex Kitten, I am Desire -I am worthless, ugly, unlovable, disgusting. Life is worth living, I want to be a wandress, I want to see all of this beautiful World - I hate life, I wish i had the courage to push the razor vertically down my forearm, instead of horizontally. I trust men too easily, Im suprised I havent been sex trafficked/pimped out - I don't trust shit in this world! MEN ARE ALL FUCKING MONSTERS AND PREDATORS!!!

How do I live between two sides of myself, when I feel my world constantly shifting? I can't describe the emotional scraps of shredded skin left when your soul splits in two.

This is a disease of chaos, abandonment, and being betrayed by those you loved the most as a child. This is a disorder, of little girls and trans girls like me, little boys who said:

"No!, what are you doing? I thought you loved me! Please don't hit me! Please don't leave me by myself! Please don't rape me!"

The secret, scarlet, searing wounds left by women's and men's purity being stolen before it"s time to depart. It's the after shock of child rape, of child abandonment, child abuse, broken ribs and busted eye capillaries.

It is a host of bad coping skills just to escape feeling. Hypersexuality, becoming the trauma that lives in your body, so that your body is so shocked, it goes to sleep, and you can dissociate outside your prison of a mind. Drinking, weed, coke, pills, heroine, anything, anything not to feel! Cutting, making your body bleed like your heart bleeds, making your pain physically so finally, it is real, it is real, it is real....

Blood makes our pain real, like breathing it into this world. The pain of physically pain helps cure the pain of emotions uncontrolled.

I am Massive Pain...please see...I am in a massive pain, see, don't you see it yet, look at my wrist bleeding

It is constant, intense episodes of Suicidial dreaming when we crash from being overwhelmed with life.

Its pills being pumped out our stomachs with charcoal.

Its the glittering gleam of the George Washington Bridge and the desolate, draining color of the Polluted Hudson calling you to sleep in the middle of Feburary.

It is losing friends, family and lovers because every argument is the End of the World for you, and like the chaos child that lives in you, you don't know how to moderate your emotions.

Something that should have just been ignored is I hate you, never talk to me again! I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you...fucking die Bitch!

But 5 minutes after, wanting to die because you didn't mean to make them go away. You love them and hurted their feelings. I hurt the one I love....and as much as people don't think we don't have empathy, we do, probably more than normal people, its just that we switch between to modes in order to survive.

Please come back...I didn't mean it. Please come back...please come....please don't leave me....please come back....pleasseee....I love you....im stupid....please....please...im sorry....im sorry...im sorry...im sorry....come back...please... im dumb...I hate myself....I wanna bash my head against a wall. Please...what do I gotta do...please...don't...leave...me

Borderlines are infinite children of chaos and dysfunction. Parents who locked them in rooms, parents who let tutors and boarding schools raised their children. Children of mothers who space out on drugs and leave their 5 year old hungry at night, eating ketchup packets to curve the hunger pains. Children who were beat, punched and kicked like adults, their screams beat out of them until they no longer no how to cry at funerals. Like me. Children of men and women with perverted minds, men who love to corrupt prepubscent skin, searing their sick needs into children forever. Men like my foster brother who hurt me after I trusted him. Children of foster care/adoption....like me, left and wondering why they got left.

It must be because I am unwanted. I don't deserve my mother's love, thats why I didn't get it. I am worthless. I have no value. I am the epitome of nothingness

It is never having a stable sense of self. Not in a I don't know im a black trans woman way, but a...

Will I be happy as a wife...or would I be happy as a nurse....or would I be happy in bdsm...or what if I was a wanderess... what if I was a stripper. I wish I could be Bella in Twilight, or have my own ChristianGrey, or would I like Goku more as husband type?

It is your dreams changing and depleting at the drop of a hat.

It is intense Paranoia so bad it is crippling. Shadows in the corner of your eyes, playing tricks on you. Bumps against the window, at night, by kittens making your heart race crazy fast. The man behind you, that is walking to close behind you,, making you put your hand on your taser in your purse, sending adrenaline to your calve muscles.

Paranoia of a man cheating and leaving, even if he's only gone 20 minutes.

Will he come back, what if he never comes homes, what if he decides to leave me....he could leave me... if he leaves me, my world will die

It's accusing men of cheating if he comes home 10 minutes late from work.

Dreams of paranoia fit in the chaos like the imagination of monsters under the bed.

It is emptiness, a robust, complete, utter emptiness. A boredom that nothing can fill.

Borderline children seared into infinity Adult-children, children of chaos and dysfunction.

It is me screaming at the Moon to heal me, to wrap me in her silvery arms and bless me with peace, like her reflection on Serene lakes in Upstate New York.

It is dissociating, reading, movies, staring at the blankness of peoples lips moving, it is living in a fantasy of our own creation. It is not knowing what's going on in class. It is being so accustom to pain, your brain can shut down on instinct tou save you. A permanent ability to be half comatose, on command and instinctively.

Dissociation becomes the first way we learn to escape trauma, and most times, the only thing we could do it as children.

It is needing a hug, but not knowing how to ask for one. Its needing love, but also being petrified in place by knowing the pain love can bring.

Its sucidial ideation everytime a man leaves.

If he doesn't want me, I will let Death cradle me, because, because I don't know how to leave just by myself...

It is howling at the Moon, desperate, with a needle in your Arm, to get this pain of never having solid ground, out of you.

It is feeling the emotions of all humans amplified to 1000, like a child, like feeling fear, sadness, pain, loneliness for the first time, each time.

I am a child of Chaos, and sometimes, I want to die