My Enemies And My Friends…

My brain is pure chaos, a hundred demands,
Where BPD fractures and breaks all commands.
Then OCD joins in the heat of the fray,
To forge a new rule I am forced to obey.

It has to be exact, or the niggle awakes,
And pulls me to tasks I must do for mistakes. 
If something is missed or not quite on the line,
I balance the scales with a desperate design.

I follow compulsions I know are not real,
They don't guard a soul, yet are as solid as steel. 
I mirror and mask just to look the same,
To blend with the crowd and keep looking sane.

If people could look at the vault in my head,
They’d stare and they’d judge with a coldness instead.
I don’t even know who I am in the haze,
Just carrying riots through all of my days.

Exhausted and worn from thoughts that won't cease,
The questions that never surrender their peace.
Everything rigid, black or white,
Box A or Box B, it’s wrong or it’s right.

And when it's too heavy, I have to succumb,
They both join up forces and make me go numb.
I function, I move, but the pilot's away,
A ghost in the machine for a vanishing day.

The feelings go quiet, the static turns down,
So I follow the rules through the mute, empty town.
Yet under the calm, a hot simmer of rage,
And triggers just waiting to be let out of their cage. 

I’m painfully honest, though biting my tongue,
You think you want the truth, but you’re always wrong,
So I try not to speak it, a battle hard won,
And keeping it locked leaves me hollow and done.

Yet every strict rule gives a footing to stand,
A framework to hold that is steady and planned.
A system born early to shield a child's mind,
Still standing as strong as it was left behind.

My brain needs the structure, unchanging and sure. 
To keep me connected, my feet on the floor. 
I don't deal in maybes or what-if debate,
My OCD reasoning makes every choice straight. 

It's fact or it's fiction, no middle to see,
The absolute logic is an anchor to me. 
I read at a sprint just to get to the core,
I don't need the padding or fluff anymore.

When people are talking, I’m ten steps ahead,
And biting my tongue so the words remain unsaid.
My intellect leaps through the noise and the view,
I’ve mapped out the steps of what you’re going to do. 

For every direction a script is prepared,
A chess match of caution where nothing is spared.
Pure strength and willpower locked in my chest,
To finish whatever I put to the test.

With precision in every detail I trace,
It’s all or it’s nothing, no half-measured space.
With razor sharp empathy guiding my way,
I always know just the right thing to say.

They aren't just quirks that I started to do,
They saved a small child and guided her through. 
The armour and scars that helped me to survive,
The proof of a mind's power to keep me alive.

Without these disorders, the verse wouldn't flow,
No poetry written, no truths left to show.
My equal twin forces where darkness descends—
My BPD, OCD, enemies, and friends.