My emotions are like water
Pouring out of a faucet
They sometimes are
Too hot
Too cold
Too much
Too little
And sometimes, they stop altogether

Sometimes I wonder
If those who've never experienced the grueling lows of depression
Truly experience the moment
When the sun catches your soul in just the right way
And you finally feel warmth in your bones.

The night does not belong to those in love.
It belongs to those who dared to fall in love and found that there was no-one there to catch them.
The night does not belong to the dreamers.
It belongs to those who have nightmares waiting for them long after they are awake.
The night does not belong to the contented.
It belongs to those troubled souls who carry the burdens of this world on their backs.
The night belongs to the haunted.
It belongs to the lonely.
It belongs to those too busy fighting to even think about rest.
You can keep your sunshine.
Me and mine come alive in the night.

Pop a pill
Swallow it down
No more smiles
No more frowns
You can't feel
Through the fog
A drug induced haze
A medical cloud
A hollow version
Of who you used to be
Hallucinations
Become memories
But what price
Are we willing to pay
For society to label us
"Normal" one day?

lithium
keeping me from iridescent mania
cutting of the air to my lungs
strangling me with snaky grey
v
     i
n
     e
         s
oozing with itchy slime
that gets in every pore
depression and self loathing set in
why is this my prescription?