it doesn’t exist
because it is
so locked away
so far away
from prying eyes
peeping toms
and nosy nancys
see only a wall;
they never realize...
i’m on the other side
i am safe
in the grey areas
outside of memory
so i, too
see only a wall
i keep myself
stuck, trapped
here,
between memory
and the now
i still feel it
but the memory
isn’t here
why did you tell me
not to forget
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 2:42 PM UTC
sitting
outside
i allow myself
a breath
through the pain
the wind
moving
alive and free
pitter patters
against my face
the sunlight
feels anew
but diluted;
thoughts
clouding beauty
i pull myself
open
asking for warmth
yet, cool breezes
push by
i ache
for a touch
of the sun;
so much,
i’d die for it
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 2:33 PM UTC
My chest becomes ice
It freezes slowly,
Over my ribs
Crawling past my shriveled, open lungs
It’s so cold here
I feel this and nothing else
I feel this, nothing else
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
but i am putting it down
until it hurts
and grips me vicariously
'til i'm twisted around-
i'm turned into a mug's handle
it's the same plastic feeling
i had before
i miss the solid glass,
and the strips of wood
i teased with my angel fingers
the mirror couldn't see me
today
i didn't let it.
how could i?
my eyes are too small, here
shaggy planet earth
was invaded in 1981
beginning with my first soul:
i was so young
i didn't know better
tossed out, i'm left to drink up
the abundance of this world.
swallowing more light and dark
than my small eyes can;
i turned to ethanol.
hemingway entered my life
in the fall of '09
i couldn't have been more in love.
maybe that's why
i'm pen in one hand, drink in the other.
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
less than i should,
i keep these foamy
fog-soaked memories
on hold-
pleading with the gods
"no yelling, not tonight"
and the rain relents
i feel a little safer
with just a few clouds
the stability is warm
unlike my hands,
and the majority of my heart
but i'm still here-
right?
or am i just pretending,
sometimes i do bleed
just to check if i am still alive.
sometimes i don't want to breathe-
that's okay too;
i'm on my journey
i'll find my way
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 5:13 AM UTC
two broken bones,
a sprained ankle,
an abusive relationship,
depression,
and mania
i am sensual,
and smart
filled with anger
and compassion;
i am so lonely
no happy birthday,
no beautiful love story,
no more good days,
no more happy endings
no hope
a ten day jail sentence
two stays in detox
not enough meetings
too many drugs
and a lust for change
i'm nineteen
and these years
already weigh me down
with all of their force
relentlessly
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 11:12 PM UTC
i feel what i feel
with such depth and aching despair
my chest is caving in
at times; i am filled with water
i'm a finely tuned banjo
in a sea of horned instruments
and no one wants to play me
or open me up
i'm so closed up
but on days when the mania is gone,
the depression isn't so bad anymore
i have my lovers and
the pills i eat with dinner
work
i'm swallowing down my pride
paying attention and trying to decide
where i can hide my nervous sighs
when i'm in a room of people
and still feel alone
i needed a break
i don't know how to find that
exactly
without the dependence
of chemicals
i am pursuing a lighter path
will it impress you?
my muscles ache
my heart aches
my brain... it aches
finding a way to end a poem
when you're still sad
is the hardest part
of trying to cope
positively
i can't end here either
because then anxiety swoops in
like a hawk
or some other bird she named
when we were under the trees
i'm swimming in a pool
of bad nostalgia
and beautiful synchronicities
i'm so sick of
the ups and downs
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
i don't want to
have these
bipolar
conversations
where i threaten,
and apologize,
and demand,
and apologize
again
i don't mean to take you
through the ringer
to make you see violence
and mood swings
i don't mean to scare you
when i don't take
my medicine
i don't mean to scare you
when i cry
for hours
i don't mean to scare you
when i scream
and punch things
i never meant to
do those things
like keying your car
i never meant to
drop everything
and go across multiple state lines
with no plans
at all
i never meant to hurt myself
until my arms
were coated in scars
for all of the times
i self-medicated
poked myself with needles
and drank away my pain,
i'm sorry
i shouldn't have taken so many xanax
you're right
i was wrong
again
i never meant for you to be
my caretaker
i hate those words
caretaker
i should be able
to take care
of myself
i'm sorry i am not managing this illness
i am very
very
ill
i'm sorry for the times
i couldn't get out of bed
couldn't eat,
couldn't move
couldn't go to work
i'm sorry for the times
i made tons of post-it notes
filled journals with ideas
bought calendars
and organization tools
i'm sorry for getting your hopes up
i really thought i could do it this time
i'm sorry for my diagnosis
i'm sorry i didn't understand how serious this is
i didn't ask to be bipolar
i didn't ask to be born
i make cases for myself
in my head
but they're all filed as
crazy
i'm sorry i was delusional
paranoid
and afraid
i'm sorry for the drug binges
i'm sorry for melting
fading
burning
and still coming back
alive
these low lows
and high highs
you've been through the ringer
when you're only supposed to be
support, a resource of compassion...
you had to be a caretaker
you didn't ask for this
and neither did i
i sometimes questioned if it was harder on you
to live with someone with bipolar disorder
than it was for me
to live with bipolar disorder
you wanted to save me
but you realized
that i can only save myself
now i'm drowning
and my lifeline is gone
i'm trying to learn to swim
i just hope i do it
before i sink
i'm sorry for all of the ****** poetry
i made you read
i'm sorry
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
drugs won't wake up one day
to so painfully say
they don't love me anymore
they won't say
it's okay
you have seven days, to pack your things
they won't bruise me
contuse me, or use me-
they won't abuse me
they'll linger on, holding
begging me to stay
gripping me tight
when i try to say goodbye,
they'll keep whispering
"i love you, goodnight"
drugs are my sweetheart
and everyone says she's bad for me
but i love her
she swears she loves me too
i can't breathe without her...
and i can't breathe without you
when i think of my red-haired lover,
i ache, i cry,
i feel so alone
but she, my drug, hums to me
tells me everything
is gonna be just fine
she caters to me,
to my fears, and to my doubts
reminds me that my way is always right
she tells me
another shot of dope
would make me feel better
she tells me
another six lines of coke
would wake me up
she tells me
the bars will make me forget
just like i want to
she tells me
that no matter what
it's all my fault; not hers
she makes me feel so sane
when i'm with her;
so insane, without
the drugs won't wake up one day
and tell me
"it's over"
they'll always be here for me,
even when i push them away
and beg them to leave
they'll always be here
with a helping hand;
we light flames and burn the bridges down
i hate them,
and i need them,
and i love them
if we're over,
if you're gone,
i won't be sober
you said we were
the classic love story
of loving an addict...
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 2:29 AM UTC