Here you can….
Read about mental health awareness.
Listen to Elevator music from the soul
Read poems and inspriational qoutes from those with BPD
learn the pain and perseverance, you are not alone.
Thoughts of an American Author!
Come with me.
Sit under my tree. Come see the parts of me which none have seen. Shhh I’ll show you a secret place. A place that should have felt safe. Every branch god sets in its perfect place. Don’t forget to read between the lines, and crawl under my beautiful vines. (whispers) “you see they hold a secret inside.”
Climb my many branches where the past comes to life like an echo ringing like a bell dead in the night. Where god placed me you see, there was no light. Nightmares draped over me every night. Yet my mind took flight. With a constant longing of safety. I sat in my mind. I built this secret place of mine. From seedling to tree. My thoughts set me free. I grew in the night until i finally saw his glorious light.
To the top I grew. Branching out past the morning dew. Come with me, through my branches and vines and read this story of mine. My vines may twist and my branches may turn . My trunk tall and strong, because god told me where I finally belonged.
These dreams that once haunted me I finally understood, my roots buried deep my nightmares they did creeped. A life that was diminished. Saved by Christ secretly from the start to the finished.
Watch my garden bloom and my branches spread out as I share this story. That I have finally pen out. It’s book of nightmares. you see these, horrid nightmares that haunted me. From these stories in which you read. Know that it all seemed so real to me. I grew from the ashes of the fire that had burned me alive like phoenix reborn I rise. A story of a weeping willow who grew wise, through satin and all his lies.
So my readers Come with me . A secret place soon you’ll see. she writes in a hidden forest forever in her mind. New things she seeks to find. Searching her mind, her soul, and following the path less traveled. Did she find away? To brave every day. Or did all the branches grow to ruin? Did her vines dry and wilt off?
