Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Patricia LeDuc Apr 2018
How did this happen?
What did I do?
I try to control it
I try not to believe it
It happens so fast
Not much I can do
Manic...x...two

I scream and I cry
Oh no not again
I know the symptoms
But they creep up to fool me
Tried distracting it
Tried to watch TV
Walk around and around and
Around the room

Manic, manic, manic
Top of the room feeling panic
Whoopee Bipolar is here again


Hoping my feet touch the ground
It follows me
My brain...is not sound
It beckons me still
Again and again
I take the good and the bad
Trying to cope
Holding out for hope
9/30/16 written by Pat LeDuc
Bipolar is frame of reference to a normal life
Devin Ortiz Apr 2018
The rifts have opened once again,
Their darkness, thin and heavy.
Pouring malicious, defeating thoughts.
Self-doubt, hopelessness, it is agony.

It has been months, what seemed like eons,
Since such dark matters poisoned my mind.
Yet, a single word was all it took to open a wound.
"Trauma", the irony of a word as a trigger.
It ignites the sky of thought, in an absence of light.

The delirium begins, mania rises.
Shield and sword to the gravity of sadness.
irises Mar 2018
open
and close

clench
and release

control
your emotions

and find
your peace.
Andrew Ewen Mar 2018
Sometimes I wonder if my body can cope.
Analysing everything so thoroughly, as if using a microscope.
Scared if my mind could endure this unbelievable strain.
I felt like I was under so much pressure. I started to question if I was sane?
Scared of how much my mind and body was having to take.
I thought it was only a matter of time, before I would surely break.
Where I was at, I needed help with this.
If I kept heading the way I was going, I would have fallen into the abyss.
I talked to people who had a good understanding.
Who recognised how mental health can be very demanding.
They told me that it can get easier, but it would be a fight.
That with support and help, my future could still be bright.
I needed to know I could get better and that things wouldn't always be black.
That I could regain control and get my life back.
Nathan Smith Jul 2021
One day at a time,
If you stick to that,
Everything will be fine.
If everyone took that pledge,
Your life would be sublime.
Who’s life’s are they talking about anyway?
It Surely isn’t mine!
Anxiety, diabetes, and cancer
My life is already working overtime.
If the bottle was my only problem
I think I’d be fine!
This was my first ever attempt at writing poetry!
From my own life experience
Bobcat Jan 2018
Inhale
Exhale
Your very first
My most important

Your hand
My thumb
You held it so tight
I couldn't hold my tears

8pm
2am
Every night
To make sure you're fed

My side
Her side
You in the middle
Across from your neglected crib

Left foot
Right foot
Your first steps
Corners were quickly covered

Fast forward
Slow down
You're getting so big
I always did my very best

She yelled
I cried
Those three words
You weren't mine

She left
You left
You met your dad
I found vices to cope

Few words
Left unsaid
You're still too young to know
That although not by blood

You were still my son.
Nayana Nair Jan 2018
The trees don’t whisper,
don’t console me with lies
that they have heard too many times.
They tell me that this sorrow won’t go away
atleast not without me.
That there will be days I will look at
the empty chair opposite me
and my coffee would taste of tears.
Days when I would wake up
with a blanket of despair over me.
That I will stop at certain words
and certain names,
and feel too broken in this happy world.
That I would stop taking certain roads.
Stop going to certain places.
So that my ache in my chest
won’t eat me up.
There will be day
when I would have given up
on all that I was.
And sure enough
the sorrow went away,
taking away everything we were.
Sam Dec 2017
I've reached the center of the bridge
Only to find no answers to the questions
Words held hostage
Behind my hopeless lips
I look to you for guidance
But you always fade away
Like the moon before the sun
I tremble slightly
Punching concrete below
Words held hostage
Behind my hopeless lips
Unable to ask
Why you leapt from that overpass
Every time I see you
Tear drops fill my eyes
Every time you see me
Tear drops fill your eyes
The shadow you now are
My knuckles start to bleed
You waltz away again
Words held hostage
Behind my hopeless lips
I drop another rose, and walk away once more
She Writes Nov 2017
Ink floods these pages
Words cause more harm than good
Opening up old wounds
decipher feelings misunderstood

Reminiscing lost love
Analyzing mistakes made
Drowning in past feelings
Remembering all who betrayed

Putting pen to paper
Is my way to cope
Anger, lust, sadness, anxiety
Depression; a slippery *****

I must continue to write
To tear down these walls
Work through my issues
Before death I befall
Next page