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Borderline & Thunderstorms

In tempest skies where thunder roars,  

I stand as rain begins to pour.  

The coldness seeps into my bones,  

Much like the nights I spend alone.


Each drop, a tear, each gust, a sigh,  

A storm within and no place to hide.  

Yet in the darkened clouds I find,  

A mirror to my restless mind.


The lightning strikes with a brilliant flash,  

Much like the thoughts that race and clash.  

Loved ones love the calm before the storm,  

But not the chaos that takes form.


Yet in the storm's wild and raging dance,  

There lies a fierce, untamed romance.  

The beauty in the stormy gale,  

Is echoed in my own travail.


For like the rain that cleanses this earth,  

My pain, though cold, can give rebirth.  

In every drop a truth unfolds,  

That even storms have worth untold.


Though wet with tears, though chilled to bone,  

There’s beauty in this storm alone.  

For in the thunder’s wild refrain,  

I find a solace in the rain.


-aubs

09/02/24


In my poem, “Borderline & Thunderstorms,” I explore the profound and often turbulent connection between my inner world of BPD and the raw beauty of nature’s storms. The imagery of a thunderstorm serves as a metaphor for the existential struggle that accompanies my emotional experiences. As the storm rages outside, with rain pouring and thunder roaring, I find a parallel to the internal turmoil that persists within me. Each drop of rain becomes a tear, each gust of wind a sigh, reflecting the depth of solitude and unrest that characterizes my nights. The lightning’s flash symbolizes the jarring, discordant thoughts that frequently collide in my mind, while the storm’s calm before the storm mirrors the more stable façade I present to the world. Yet, there is a poignant beauty in the chaos of the storm… the way it cleanses and renews. This mirrors how my own pain, though cold and isolating, can lead to moments of profound self-discovery and rebirth.


Ultimately, the poem reveals that even amidst the storm’s fury, there is solace and beauty to be found. Just as the storm has its own kind of grace, so too does my personal struggle possess a hidden value, one that shapes and defines my journey in this world.

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