Today I’ve sunk
like a ship wrecked out at sea,
drowning in the murky waters
deserted and forlorn
with only the coral and plankton
alive by my side.

I sit all day,
curtains drawn tight
as if to shut out the sunlight
as it mocks me with its gaiety
when I indeed have none,
or so it feels.

Despair has set in
and self-pity, no doubt
when there is no need for such.
I wallow in my own wretchedness
and self-centredness,
I confess.

Oh! These BPD down days
where I have no wish
for light nor company
and then complain
that I have neither.
Self-inflicted misery.

And so to bed, I think,
is positively the order of the day;
or more accurately refrained
for certain is a negative outlook.
Another day tomorrow.
Perhaps a little less morose.