it’s more than just an episode
it’s the constant passing thoughts
it’s the feeling of nonchalantly walking
never looking at red or green lights

it’s another “did you take your lamictal?”
then enduring the feeling
they won’t come in waves
it’ll come in tsunamis

it’s crying on a saturday night
every inpatient has negative reviews
“will you visit me?”
“i’m so scared”
hold my hand in the ambulance

it’s screaming at the top of your lungs
you’re still under observation
not just by white coats
but the ones who left generational trauma
“can we let them go?”
“i’m sure they’ll be fine”

it’s being amazed at making it this far
living with fear of the future
unsure of my own
watching you prosper and grow
my heart full of love and admiration
wishes to grow old together
yet i know won’t make it to 26

yet although i feel so much hate
and i carry all this angry and despair
i’ll still have my love for the world
and those who love me too
i can make room for it