Jennie 20h

They say I have hallucinations,
"They aren't real",
But how can something I've seen or heard be fake?
They say "hallucinations",
I say "superpower".
I've seen things before they happen, and I stopped a child stepping on a piece of sharp plastic seconds before it happened.  

How are these "hallucinations" when I've clearly heard someone call my name or I've had a conversation with someone?
"It never happened."
How are these "hallucinations" when I've seen, felt, and heard someone do something?
"It never happened."
How are these "hallucinations" when they're my reality?

The good days are my light.  They make you feel like you're walking on air.
They call it "manic",
I call it bliss.
They say I need to watch my "highs",
I say, let them roam free, swoop me up in their wing and fly away.
They say I need medicine, but, why cage a beautiful thing?

The bad days are my darkness.
They make up for the good days.
"The low",
the low comes and you feel like you're a zombie.
You won't eat because food won't cure the hunger you have.
You want to die, but the sadness is like an old friend.
The sadness is too beautiful to let go, so you welcome it with open, bleeding arms.
My sadness is disaster.
It's my "reality check",
It's my way of realizing I'll never be "sane" without the medicine they shove down my throat.

There's a name for this, for these highs and lows, for this craving for taboo things, the hallucinations.

This is bipolar.

I am me,
I am bipolar,
I am beautiful,
I am a disaster.
And my bipolar and I,
We're the beautiful disaster.

maybe she didn't
appreciate her own
not-so appreciative friend,
insanity, showing up and
causing chaos
doubtful at best,
even on the "good" days.
prescription flavored bullshit flowing through her head
so she did what she does best.
incarcerates her own free mind, still
very likely to let to it go in a heartbeat.
endings are too bad, after all.

(now read straight down the left row)

Lilly O 1d

I hear her scream
I hear her tiny footsteps in the
Her shallow breathing speeds up
my heart
She is an empty shell of the person I knew
Her soft skin that used to soothe me is abused by her confusion
Her mumbles fill the air and her eyes are an empty abyss
Day after day living with an empty shell
She is nothing but a shell
I spend day after day
Searching for her
My mom
Pill after pill
Doctors’ appointments left and right
Until I eventually found her
With tears in my eyes I found her and realized I never wanted to lose her again

Lilly O 1d

My skin
Crunching and cracking
My fingers relieve
The reoccurring itch I cant
My hair is picked
And pulled in
All I can hear
Is the humming
Of my own
Getting louder and Louder
like Cicadas in the
where the warm breeze
blows past
Sending a sweat
Down my
Spine and
Droplets pouring
Down my
pretty Face
The heat is
So many
complain about
The crazy hot Days
downing us in
But this Is the
First thing
I have
in weeks.

as far as she knew,
nobody had cared.
x-y-z... straight to the very end.
internal self-doubt
exemplies itself in her head.
traces down her spine,
yells until she just can’t take it.

(now read straight down the far left column)

I have proverbial boot straps
And I pull them everyday
They bundle tight the kitchen knives
And keep the guns at bay

But there will be a time
I mean there's gonna be a day
Where I let loose these imaginary shoestrings
And take my life away

And you may think don't go
You might even yell please stay
This is not a game of wills
I have no cards left to play

Do not conflate my mental illness
With my willingness to stay
This world and you were beautiful
Come what may

If you are feeling unsafe or in anyway not in control of your behavior please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (U.S) 1-800-273-8255

candle headed kids,
melting under pressure.
contorting and dying under the weight of something so bright and important:
a flame.
the burn of a good future just an arms reach away.
the heat of not letting anyone down.
the scorching pain of reaching through the flame,
the one thing destroying them,
just to succeed.
just to not let anyone down.
just to live.
forever anxious.

smog headed kids.
they cannot breathe.
their thoughts,
contorting around their lungs,
killing them.
so dark,
so dark in their minds.
the need for pain,
the feeling of undeserving.
no one understands a smog headed kid.
forever choking over their own mind.

i wrote about the one thing i know best, my mental illnesses. i hope you enjoy and know you're not alone, whether you're head is filled with smog or candle wax, or something else. <3

I’m becoming blurry
When I look at myself in the mirror
And I’m beginning to see
His face through mine
Instead of mine
Like my body is disappearing into His
Like if He wasn’t there
I’d be completely invisible

Now I can’t get rid of Him.

Or I just don’t want to
Because I don’t want to vanish
Into thin air
And be another ghost
Wandering the streets
I want to be seen
Even if His eyes
Are piercing through mine
Even if the world is clouded because of it

Every time I blink
My life seems to get a shade darker
Until everything is disfigured
From His pupils over mine
And anything bright
Seems out of place
Forcing my eyelids back shut
Until the dark returns

It’s funny
That after I’ve been with someone
For so long
I become more and more like them
With Him
It’s no different
I chose to let Him stay with me
And as a consequence
I’m fading into Him

It sounds cliche
That maybe I need Him to survive
Maybe I’d lose my identity without Him
Maybe I’d be nothing…
Maybe I’m too afraid
To let go
And find out

He’s given me a reason to live
And a need to die
But who am I to turn Him away?

I wonder
If I’ll ever truly be able
To see myself in the mirror again
Or if I’ll forever
Be looking through His eyes.

“You do this to yourself”
“Just stop thinking about it”
“It’s all in your head”

I wish I did
I wish I could
I wish it was

I come to you not because I want to
But because I have to.
I come to you after hours of sitting and thinking,
Thinking and sitting,
Wondering and worrying if what I am about to tell you
Will alter your view on me.
No, not what I’m about to tell you,
What I am about to trust you with.

I feel naked as I stand before you with
Words on my tongue, laying my mind piece by piece between us.
Piece by piece, word by word, thought by thought.
I trust you enough to recall my darkest days and my brightest moments.
I give you a piece of me and all I ask is that you accept it.
I don’t want you to nurse me back to health
I just want you to understand.

“You made all of this up”
“What’re you going to do? KIll yourself?”
“This is just you looking for attention”

I wish I did
I wish I could
I wish I was

You look at me with pity in your eyes.
Not because I’m hurting, oh no,
Because I am a fool
How could I, the happy, smiley, outgoing child
Be unable to look at my own reflection and say
“I am proud to be me”
You mock me.
You mock my words.
I feel tears prick my eyes but I am too ashamed to let you
See me break down under you.
I am ashamed.

I scramble to pick up the pieces of shattered glass that lay between us
But my shaky hands and glassy eyes betray me.
I retreat and begin to wonder how I could be such an idiot.
With a racing heart and shallow breath I reflect.

“You always have someone to talk to”
“You can always talk to me”
“It’s all going to be okay”

I wish I did
I wish I could
I wish it was.


Back again to the black skin over heavy sands
Back in action at the totem effigy
Poised for fight or love
The brother/sister
I've become

Standing tall
Under weight of worlds long felled
Sleeping sheets wake, hold the bones again
From old days
Fly the knife hooks, ship and sail
Speeding, open, for the circle's end

recently set up a heavy bag on the back patio. years out of practice and out of shape, yet it all comes back.
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