He says, "When she's manic like this, I can't keep up with her!"
He is lost,
Lost in the endless sea of my energy,
In the tsunamis of syllables
And the way the sun touches my skin, flowing through me.
I am a force to be reckoned with,
Daughter of the sky,
Made from dust of the stars.
They beckon to me with their brilliance
And the gleam of secrets they will not share.
I want to know where the edges of their shine go,
Want them to swallow me into their vastness.
I am a thunderstorm,
The gale force winds that shake the very earth he walks on.
My synapses connect at light speeds,
Weaving the strands of the universe.
I am a power,
Muse of the way the leaves quake and change color,
Poet to Mother Nature.
Of course he cannot keep up.
It is hard to run in flip flops!
I guess I hoped that you
Would get some sleep last night
That come the break of dawn
Things would be alright
But here we are again
And you haven’t slept a wink
Relapse is a ghastly cavern
And you’re standing on the brink
You’re smiling like a maniac
And you rattle on and on
But I was up late worrying
Forgive me if I yawn
Your eyes are open wide
Like you’ve had too much caffeine
I know where this is going
But you’ve made it three years clean
If you could just get sleep
Maybe you’d wake up okay
And these monsters that you battle
Would simply go away
I lie to myself now
Just so I can make it through
I know that you’re in pain
But don’t you know, I’m hurting too?
I know it’s not my battle
And I can’t make you see the light
But I’m so tired of the darkness
And I’m so weary from the fight
And I guess I hoped by now
That this would’ve come to pass
But since it didn’t, won’t you try
To get some sleep at last
nobody talks about the disappointment
from letting you down
not living up to the excitement
once the mania wears off
and my frequencies begin to lower
i sink back into normalcy
my shine becomes lackluster
like fools gold
my touch only turns your skin green
eventually everyone grows tired of me
Screaming out in vain
I see naught to call out to
Yet still... I 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 scream.
Alterations in perception
Leads to involuntary self-deception
Is this a dream
Is this reality
What if I am really dead
My sanity's hanging by a thread
I miss having clarity
Being able to differentiate
Am I lucid
I miss being able to truly say
I had a good day
At this point I'm not sure what I know to be true
I just know that I'm tired of trying to push through
And if anybody can hear me
Please help me understand
I'm lonely and scared
Can someone please
just hold my hand?
Only way I can describe my derealization
Swimming with stars, a cosmic stream
Saturn’s no longer a distant dream
Titan in one hand, the other waving to Ganymede
Ideas are rushing and fluttering
Like dandelion seeds in the wind, they’re slippering
Melodic strings then crashing drums
A chaotic orchestra, now here they come...
Melting shadowy figures from the dead
Delusions from the collapsed parts of my head
A simple reminder to stop glamorizing mania, **** can get scary dangerous real quick.
Smashed skull mentality.
Altered states of mind/ sober all the time
Slick, sickly cycling. Dreaming of love and of dying
Slimy sucky lust
No trust but I'm trying
Sticky fingers; Blue, brown, green eyes
Why do I appreciate, have mercy for every soul but my own?
This might be a house but it isn't a home.
Sweaty naked bodies, distasteful escape.
Bring me your time.
Minefield life just trying to survive most days.
Brain waves moody haze with your hand in mine I am thriving.
Pillow soft lips a kiss away from drowning in a strangers' eyes.
Endless longing set the days on fire.
Time warp, essential sensuality
Warm breeze running through my mind
Black poison blood, sweat, c*m, and confusion populate my veins.
A race toward brokenheartedness or objectivity
Lift the curse of eternal shame.
Forgotten toxicity embalmed in simplicity and transparency
Complacency, erasing a disgusting history
Bury me in the laurels you rest on.
I'm not really a poet, but I'll write a poem anyway.
Reading a good poem is like c*mming, but for your soul
I don't know whether to be insulted or to thank you for calling me a succubus.
Humans make my brain hurt. Yes, that includes me.
I don't know what I want but I'm pretty sure I'll get it.
I think I'd be a better writer if I didn't think so much.
Can't tell if I'm "need to eat" hungry or if it's the black hole in my chest beckoning to be fed.
Some days live wire lust for life
Others, the walking dead.
You don't have to rhyme to be a poem.
How sweet it is!
There are forbidden things bursting forth from beneath my tongue like blooming flowers from the ground.
Urging me to the arms of strangers.
No, there will never be another special one, no like-minded soul to trust and confide in. My past rusts within me.
I am a human vault with no combination. Feeling nostalgic again for relationships I ruined.
On purpose in distrust I'm alone with all this lust again.
Sometimes self-awareness feels like a sham.
Will I ever know who I am?
Knowing me is more an eternal sigh and shake of the head than a pleasure.
I wish I was alright but I just might have to become okay with being all wrong forever.
Band-aids don't work on hearts.
Good things aren't the only things that fall apart. Nobody starts out exactly where they need to be.
The journey is the best part, though it isn't always pretty.
"I'd rather be a lonely forest than a busy street."
We all can be ugly, we all can be beautiful.
Most importantly, we all can be whoever we want to be.
I want to stop obsessing over the wound and pay attention to the healing.
Accept the past, begin forgiving.
Trek the bumpy road ahead to self-love and recovery.
is this a healthy coping skill?
Reality is a beautiful, terrible, brutal, lonely, lovely, scary, marvelous place.
Its duality lives within me. My mind is unbearable and wonderful and sacred and terrifying. Disgusting in it's innocence. Filthy in it's purity. Reveling in rebellion. Drowning in wisdom. Thriving in suffering. Rapidly cycling through darkness and light. Sitting still as we pass through time. Caffeinated and tired, time and time again. Dreaming of some place I've never been; Some place I'm supposed to be, then hating it when I get there. Intrigued and bored. Everywhere and nowhere. Trapped in this transitory state. Enslaved by mystery and hatred.