A Cruel World…

The brain remembers what the mouth denies,
Rewired in the dark beneath the lies. 
It warped itself to keep the child alive,
The only way a shattered mind could thrive. 

An early war built up a heavy wall,
To hold back the terror so I wouldn’t fall. 
An emotional shield dropped down to keep apart,
The ancient scars locked deep in my heart. 

I study books and analyse each fact,
Using cold logic to keep my thoughts exact. 
Yet intellect can never break the spell,
Or pull up roots that grew within the hell. 

In childhood, OCD assumed control,
A fierce commander without mercy or soul. 
It tightens down its grip across my brain,
Defying every effort to break the chain. 

At eleven years, my BPD took hold,
A second shadow, raging and bold. 
Though OCD can keep the anger at bay,
The master driver will not fade away. 

And love remains a word in foreign script,
A road on which my feet have never slipped. 
No jealousy or heartbreak burns my hand,
I cannot feel something I do not understand. 

Not lost or missing, never grown at all,
No affection built behind my iron wall. 
I used to chase a friend to conquer and collect,
Then cast them off the moment they’d connect. 

To fit the world, I wore a borrowed face,
And mirrored others just to fit a space. 
I hid compulsions, bluntness, and the strain,
Sacrificing myself to spare them the pain. 

So solitude became my safer ground,
Where no one triggers me, no eyes are found. 
I stepped away from effort and defence,
The constant attempt not to cause offence. 

When life becomes too much for me to take,
Numbness settles in for my mind’s own sake. 
Dissociation stills my inner sight,
And leaves a hollow quiet in the night. 

Except for verse, my single open door,
Where frozen memories reach the light once more. 
Where grief and sadness wake a sudden spark,
And bring a moment’s warmth into the dark. 

From traumatised young child, and a teenager lost,
Through addiction’s grasp and the height of the cost. 
To an isolated life behind a wall of glass,
Watching the silent empty shadows pass. 

Apart from my son who steps inside the stone,
No maternal instinct was ever shown. 
No automatic bond, but hammered steel,
Constructed deliberately, unbreakable and real. 

Being born both autistic and blind,
With my OCD our minds are aligned. 
The only person allowed to remain so near,
To share the fortress born out from fear.

A cruel world that never showed a tender sign,
Or offered kindness on this road of mine. 
How I lived through it all, I’ll never know,
But once I learnt to survive, it was hard to let go. 

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