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They tell me I'm bipolar
I'm not sure what that means
other than my life is ruled
by council run care teams
They tell me to stop cutting 
They tell me not to jump
I'm quite surprised they don't take notes
each time I take a dump
They worry I'm too happy
then panic when I'm low
at this point my emotions
have nowhere else to go.

They say I'm schizophrenic
and part of me agrees
The other part is not so sure
and screams at all she sees
They say I'm not "engaging"
as I sit here on my bed
but engaging isn't easy
with these voices in my head.
so they fill me with their poison
in many coloured pills
Some to cure the side effects
but none to cure my ills.


I am not a list of symptoms
I'm a person brave and true
but life dealt me it's harsher cards
so now I'm muddling through
I wish you'd seen me better
before all this took hold
I wish you'd heard my laughter
when I was free and bold
Most of all I wish you wouldn't judge as you walk by
or give me sympathetic looks with deep well meaning sighs.

In the end we're all just people
struggling on this mortal coil
some bury feelings deeply
while some bring them to the boil.
The moral to this poem,
for I know this much is true
all walks of life have lingered here
Someday "I" might be " you".
I am truly blessed to work with wonderful people, that inspire me everyday. This is for the "girls"
 Apr 2014 Alexis
Elli
anxiety attack
 Apr 2014 Alexis
Elli
I stare at the crowd
rapid breath intakes
sweaty palms
I can't do this

I look back at her
telling her I can't do it
don't overreact
she says

my heartbeat is deafening
faster
faster
as if it wants to escape

I can do this
I think
but i know I can't

I'll fail
fail
f a i l

I feel nauseous
why am i so stupid
all I have to do is go there
just walk
**** it
why am i afraid?

I can do this,
I convince myself again
but my heart and sweaty palms
told me otherwise  

I look back to her again
with my pleading eyes
on the verge of crying

it's so simple
how can you fail,
everyone else can do it

she says

simple for her,
but I am not her
nor everyone else

why are you forcing me?

i bite my lip,
so hard that it's bleeding

I stammer
but- I - can't-do- it

why can't you understand?
this happened to me today. I have fear of speaking in public, and such, but my mom thinks i'm just overreacting.
 Apr 2014 Alexis
furies
Revelations
 Apr 2014 Alexis
furies
Not trying to be obtuse,
but tell me now-
Is this all a game?
Is this all just a past-time?
Am I so fun to mess with
that you can't control it?
Better yet,
Am I supposed to be okay with this?

I may be nothing in your opinion,
I may also be nothing in mine,
But sometimes I question
your obvious disrespect for me,
and my quiet acceptance of it.
 Apr 2014 Alexis
AD Sifford
Good job!
You went to church for Grama on Sunday

...And you texted the whole service

Good job!
You helped out and watched your siblings

...And showed them R-rated movies

Good job!
You wore a Bible verse T-shirt to school

...After buying it with stolen cash

Good job!
You got a purity cross necklace to wear

...Then "hooked up" that same night

Good job!
You got a brand new Bible

...And stored it under your bed with the rest of your " junk"

Good job!
You visited your church's website

...And bookmarked it right beneath *******

Good job!
You went to that Bible-study group

...And afterward, to a party

Good job!
You turned down a smoke while you were there

...'Cause at the time you were just thirsty

Good job!
You prayed at the dinner table

...To get your turn over with for the week

Good job!
You call out to God before falling asleep

...To blame Him for your problems

Good job!
You plan on going to church again tomorrow

Just don't forget your cell-phone

Good job, Christian
Keep it up.
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #7. Please see the collection page itself.

This poem is one I've never felt quite satisfied with, yet it's a concept I want to address in this same basic form. Now that my poetry and mind has matured more, I may re-write this as a new poem addressing the issue I intended to in this one, in an improved, or heavier, more emotional, or more clear way. I'm not sure.
Line 18 originally said "under *******", but I thought that could come across as the bookmark bearing that name, rather than the new bookmark being beneath it in the least, to signify lesser priority as added weight to the hypocrisy.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy by being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014 Alexis
J
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.
^^^let us live through our poetry
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