I wish I have a brain,
But I’m glad I don’t have.

So one day this rash shows up on your arm after you go for a walk
You assume at the time no big deal
Just be careful on walks

But then the rash never leaves
It just kind of festers and grows
Until it's gone from a patch to an outbreak

You try getting more sleep
Maybe change your diet
And you stop taking walks

But the rash still grows
And it grows
And it becomes uncontrollable

It take over your life
Prevents you from going out
From enjoying life

It keeps you as it's prisoner
And you hate that rash
So you try to banish it

It's no longer a mere accident but a full infection
So you look into it some more
But there are so many things that start out as a rash

You figure maybe you just have dry skin
But what if that's not it
What if you have a disease or worse

So now you both have a rash and are afraid
You don't know what to do
So you try everything in your power

But the rash remains
You're without options
It's time to bring in outside help

You ask yourself what it could be
And as much as you think you might know
You have a hunch and you're terrified to have it confirmed

So the question remains
While ignorance is pain it is also bliss on the soul
Knowledge heals but not without bringing about an often ugly truth

That is what having a mental disorder is like
It's not beautiful
It's not easy

It's like a rash
But it's inside your brain so not quite like a rash
But also very much like a rash in the way it mentally controls you

And it eats you away begging for an answer
And answer you'l never have
At least not without some pain

Not quite right, not quite ticking;
the device in the head: broken and brutal.
It tells lies and lacks serotonin.
No one can tell: it hides inside the skull.

An alien in the body and a stranger in the brain -
everything is unknown, merely the soul belongs.
The soul screams sorrow yet too serene to be seen;
it will not be seen until it breaks down.

A strong wind blows: it slows you down,
the snow falls: it annoys,
the sun shines: the blood rises.
The cruel cruelty: the brain!

It orders, the tongue surrenders;
it decides, the body submits.
It dictates! It dictates! It dictates!
The human body is just a puff.

I drink and smoke a lot but hard drugs is where I draw the line.

i wonder what version of me lives in your mind
tell me what i look like through your eyes

I am wide awake.
I am tired.
And my eyes do not want to be open.
They are old.
They have seen too much,
For today.
They are tired.
I am tired
Of this.
Wide awake
At 4:00am
Jazz on the brain.
Right now
I could dance until my skirts ripped to shreds
On knee high grass, and ticks crawled up my legs
I could dance in that,
And not care about ticks and scraped up shins or
How bad I am at dancing
But I'm too tired.
So instead of twisting myself into somewhere new
My jazz brain
Plays on an empty room
Elevator ******* skull.
Too tired to do anything more than echo
My jazz.
But I'm wide awake!
And I want to use it.
But it's no use against such heavy
Blankets and air and silence and space and brain
And I know I would care about the ticks
And it would hurt, to bleed all over that prickly field
And I would care.
Since imagery doesn't feel the same
Never feels the same
As real world nettles.
So instead of dancing.
I am writing a poem.
And my brain is on jazz
Like fire.
And I am wide awake.
But I am so
So
Tired.