understanding
secretive self
sabotage is
a fundamental
building block
of my tandem bpds
yet being surprised
each and every time
i ruin something new
seems superfluous
yet unavoidable

i get manic
then pick apart all
the shimmering pixels
until the floor
falls out beneath me
because life taught me
selffulfilling prophecies
are part and parcel
with inherited trauma

these scars tell
the tales better than
a semi poetic fool
could ever hope to spill
a haunted receptacle
giving away the best
parts of himself because
he sees no value in
what is so easily discarded
sabotaged in camouflage
by all the things i lack