Tag: bipolar

Poetry

Do you really care 

Or are you feeling like

It compulsory 

It’s ok 

To not want

To be around me 

My sadness

My mess

I’m used to those

Who leave

I’m used to those 

Who can’t handle it

It’s scary 

And it’s sad

How do people 

Live like this

A mess surrounding them

What is this they/I

Am living in

How can they go on 

I’m telling you 

It’s not easy

But I manage

For now

How much 

Do I 

Want to say

Please help me

I’m drowning 

In this mess

I’ve made

But I’m ashamed

For you to see

What I have become

I’m so tired 

Of feeling this way 

Please help me 

Find a way

A way out of 

This mess

A way out of

Me

I want to be

Happy again 

I want to be free

I want to 

Live a life

A life 

Normally

Poetry

The Goodbye Note

Penned in a time of despair

A time loss 

A time that has changed

The receiver never 

Understands why

Such a letter is exchanged

The sender knows

It’s felt in the heart and soul

Never to be interchanged 

Poetry

I’m done

I can’t do it anymore

This world

This life

I don’t understand

What am I supposed to learn

All I see is pain

Is fear

Is lying

And death

I want to start over

I want a redo

Does that mean

I am left in this world

At this time

Can I be

A better me

Or will I be

Left in the dark

Nothingness

A dark reminder

That nothing exists

Outside of now

Or do I come back

A fish

A bug

A child who

Has to figure it all out again

Can I start over

Is there a way

To start over

Or is that it

Do I go and see

My Father for the first time

My grandparents

My cousin

All no longer with me

Do I stay

In pain

Lost

In a world

That doesn’t need

Me

Oh they will say

We need you

Life will not be the same

They don’t realize

They are lying

Life goes on

Time ticks away

Maybe they won’t forget

But they will move on

They will continue

Life will continue

Sadness may occur

And will pop up

From time to time

But the sun will rise

The sun will set

Hours will go by

People will smile

And laugh again

People will celebrate

The days to come

Though those days

May be numbered

But

They will have the faith

And the strength

That I no longer possess

Poetry

Wings

Born consisting of pure love

Authentic to the core

As years advanced

Purity fading evermore

–

Saturated with sorrow

Yearning to die

No hope or joy

Pleading “why?”

–

Craving answers

A private war

Coveting a mental repose

Unexpectedly, an open door

–

Petition acknowledged

Hope illuminates the ashen sky

Recovery furnishes

The wings to fly