The Borderline Girl

My body is a temple, though not my own,

My reflection a distant memory of a child.

Wide eyes, pale lips- stare back at me,

A waif pleading to be understood and loved.

The push and the pull grow dizzying- still,

My mind a rollercoaster of repeated emotion.

I hate and love- love and hate,

Where does it end? Is it too late-

To embrace life as it should be lived,

Hand in hand, with love like an old friend?

But, my friend is pale and scarred,

A heart starved for its basic needs.

So love- give every drop you can,

To survive this wicked world of man.

(An original poem, by Dax Munro.)