When I Say that I have a misfit army that lead then I mean I can assemble them with a beacon of distress and they will be there no matter how long it takes them to be there. My warriors are not to be messed with they are witty, fun-loving and vengeful. Being well read and bullied to the point of wanting to prove everyone wrong does that to a person.
When I Say that I have a wild side I mean I have two different wild sides, one calm, cool and collected to predict everyone's actions and the other fierce, unbreakable and fearless to bring anyone to their weakness.
When I Say that I know how to love it's because my experiences that I can make anyone a mellow, warm hearted person with just a gaze and a conversation.
When I Say that I have met angels, demons and monsters I mean people are all those things it just depends what it behind their mask.
When I Say that I fought wars with myself I mean I have through hell and back so many times that I have lost count.

When I say Goodnight to him I want to say goodbye and leave me alone.
When I say Goodnight he wants me to stay up late until I can't function.
When I say Goodnight he don't understand that I don't want to see him until I am 100% mentally me again because he is so draining.
When I say Goodnight he sometimes makes me so angry that it scares him and I smile to myself having some form of resistance to his narcissistic charms.
When I say Goodnight he sometimes depresses me with his past sob stories knowing he wouldn't lie to me unless he have something to hide.
When I say Goodnight he overshares how hot other girls are compared to me because he thinks I will be insecure about him admiring other girls when I shrug off his insults like a heavy backpack.
When I say Goodnight I know his gaslighting and lies don't affect me because I am mentally stronger than his ego.

When she loved me I knew I would always love her back.
When she loved me, passionate kisses and her dark blue eyes gazing into my dark brown eyes.
When she loved me, I remember how soft her skin felt.
When she loved me, us exchanging smiles.
When she loved me, I remember us taking turns smiling into each passionate kiss.

When you figure out that all those years of being friends is emotional abuse then those really good memories feel like betrayal.
When you know that your Christian best friend rebukes you for coming out as bisexual three years ago then you know she lied about how good she is.
When you know your atheist ex-boyfriend only says he can't live without you because he threatened to **** himself many times after several fights in the past as friends.
I have known him for 4 years and her for 9 years. Healing is messy I know. I know that I can't trust either of them because their expectations of me are polar opposites.
When you someone isn't good for you it hurts at first and the panic attacks keep happening from distancing yourself from all of the memories. Sometimes the things that are too good to be true is a lie and their masks fall off where all there is left is huge conflicting mixed emotions swirling in your gut.
When you know that they are monsters of their own making and you have nothing to do with it. The blame isn't on you it is on them for their treatment of you.

Why do we fade into crowds, we don't belong in?
I don't belong in a church because I am bisexual.
I continue to go to church because my straight friends are there.
But they think I am straight when I am not.
I prefer women. I have slept with women.
And I don't care what the church says. I still want a girlfriend.
Even if the church hates me for existing.
Why do we fade into crowds?
Maybe it is because it is easy to do. But fading is just existing.
I want to live my life authentically. One of these days I will.

I write poetry to give a voice to people like me who are bisexual, mentally disabled and mentally ill.
I write poetry to give a voice to bipolar people and schizophrenic people because I am bipolar and schizophrenic. And chances are they are afraid to speak up because of stigma regarding the mentally ill and the mentally disabled.
I write poetry to give a voice to bisexual people because I know hiding in the closet *****. And I want to give those people hope if they are trapped in a religious community. Because other queer gave me hope while I am trapped in my religious community. We don't even have a Pride Parade in my town.
I write poetry because I am free here among my fellow poets.

Isn't Tuesday just second Monday?
Where did all of my energy go?
Why am I so exhausted? How do people function normally on a Tuesday? If I could ****** a day in a week it would be Tuesday not Monday. Mondays are for beginnings. Tuesdays are just there for show.

Frigid night as the snow continues to fall.
People at the library.
Deep, navy blue sky.
Clicking of computer keys and the sweet smell of books.

The rapping, the tapping and the zooming speed of being Wired.
The restlessness, the heart pounding and the blood-rushing of being Wired. It's not a buzz like you get from alcohol.
It's not a high like you get from smoking ****.
It's a knowledge thirst like nothing else.
It's collecting books but being too full of thoughts to actually read them. It's going to library finding my books with a bookmark in them.
No one goes near the mental illness section of the library.
People are afraid of acknowledging mental illnesses.
The urge of wanting to read those books further. The feeling of unexplainable calm in the mind.

Working through my emotions. Mostly just working in general to forget I have a decision to make. I just got out of an abusive friendship. As much as my emotionally unavailable mother and I bond the bridge is just barely there. As much as I bond with my emotionally abusive father apologize to me nothing is ever right.
I am emotionally and mentally expressive because my parental relationships are so messed up.
Unlike my siblings I am not emotionally stunted. I don't trust many people. I don't like many people. If I care about you then you are special to me. I don't care what people say about us or what they think. I don't even care how bizarre my creative friends are I just don't want to be alone. Their pasts are their pasts as long as they respect mine I respect theirs. I don't like people who judge me because I cuss a lot. I don't like people who have bad vibes.
I have a lot of boundaries I just need normal people to respect them.

The World is Divided between Republicans and Democrats.
The World is so Divided between two halves of itself it is blind.
The World is Divided between red and blue that it forgets the color purple.
The World is Divided between moral and liberalism that it forgets that both is an option.
The World is Divided between truth and lies that we forget what the truth is.

I woke up with my long term memory blank.
It took a cup of coffee to regain it all back.
Strolling downtown I panicked and went to the art gallery.
I couldn't breathe and felt hungry so I went into a cafe'.
I kept reading everyone true emotions and everything felt loud.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my brain kept trying finding to calm me down. I had to leave the cafe' and brought my food with me. But I couldn't eat and I felt like vomiting. I threw away my food.
I walked into my church and went to my hiding place to catch my breath. I felt hopeless like a piece of me was missing and I wanted to cry, to scream in pain. But my mind was on overdrive and my heart was going at double time. I walked out of my church and walked home. I could breathe but nothing felt right.

You couldn't be happy for me because you wouldn't understand what it is like to be medicated for something you can't control.
You couldn't ask my mom what was wrong with me last summer because you are a coward.
You couldn't ask me this year even though I would have gave you the answers.
You couldn't stop thinking about yourself for one second to be concerned and see me for one day.
You are so used to icing people out and pushing people away when you don't realize that I am the only one left who cares about you.
You couldn't ask if I was okay because you are scared of me saying no.
I checked up on you everyday you were in the hospital but you never even wondered how I was. Time really does fades things that shouldn't matter.

Okay so my poetry is my journal. I hope you think it's worth the time. When I say you it's either the audience or someone I won't name. I have always known that I was insane since I was in middle school.
You Have No Idea, if you do then congrats to you.
You Have No Idea, my anxiety and depression can get so bad it feels like being torn in two.
You Have No Idea, my bipolar disorder goes through all of my emotions draining me of my summer tan to a pale tone.
You Have No Idea, I am a high functioning sociopath just no one will say it out loud, I have a heart and a mind, I notice things other people don't.
You Have No Idea, look me in the eyes, see I am human too.

You Vanished without saying goodbye.
You Vanished as if nothing was left.
You Vanished and I miss you.
You Vanished and I want you to know that I am still here.
You Vanished and we are still friends.