sshhhhh
slow down
everything is moving at a mind numbing pace
I can't tell where I am anymore

this body feels like a vice
growing tighter and tighter
the madness is coming back
my brain is swelling and my skull has no give

all I can feel is my body shaking willow branch in the wind
I can't type fast enough to get the smatter of chaos out of my head
this isn't a poem
this is a frantic plea of distraction

I just need the pill
it's sliding down my throat
ten minutes is a life time when you are counting the milliseconds

here it comes
relief
the swelling is reducing
the wind is dying down
everything is coming into focus

I can't hear music anymore
the sound, it goes right through me
I can't hear words anymore
only letters with false meaning
I can't look at myself anymore
i'm scared i won't recognize the reflection
i can't speak anymore
i don't quite know where i went

oh stranger, tell me,
which is scarier?
to think of
everything
all at once
or to think of
nothing
all at once
for hours on end?

oh, there is something i can do
I stare
into an infinite chasm,
a bottomless pit,
a sea of vacant daydreams, and think,
if only i had a new pair of eyes
maybe, just maybe
this cloud of black and white would float away
but it's not that simple
perhaps i'm colorblind,
my world is so discolored.

no, i must be haunted
nothing stares back,
no prospect of anything.
i can't focus
i can't breathe
i can't find shelter
so tell me,
what am i searching for?
my world is not only colorless,
it's chaotic,
it's messy,
like the lines of my
poems

You… you’ve got a lot going for you
You’re famous, you’re smart, and you’re powerful
but you are ugly.
You think we can’t see the evil under that gaudy, outdated sweater
but we can.
You think that fancy perfume you wear hides the scent of terror
but it doesn’t.
You think the makeup you put on daily covers the pure pain written on your face
but you are dead wrong
bipolar, you are hideous.
Sometimes, though, that’s easy to forget
when it feels like I can do anything
the world is my oyster. When I feel that ungodly fake happiness
that masquerades as wellness, when I’m with you
and I don’t want to leave.
That’s when you have me. Then you take the opportunity
to torment me.
The façade is gone, and it all comes rolling through the gates.
You scream a thousand voices into my head
you bind my body and I can feel your merciless crushing grasp
you convince me that everything is good, it’s not bad,
it’s bad, it’s not good,
this is good, that is bad, I need to say it over and over and over again
you take over, and I don’t stand a chance.
My peace of mind is gone, and my humanity is soon to follow
How did I let this happen to me? I’ll never know
but I’ve learned this:
You do take no for an answer
and I have a lot more control than I thought.
If I ask you to stay away, you’ll ask me why, and I’ll tell you
because I want to be better
and as long as I let you anywhere near me, I will always
be stuck here
on this nightmare of a rollercoaster.
So you accept that, thank God
thank you, bipolar, for setting me free,
at least once in a while.
I feel less alone without you because
I can love more fully, for longer, forever.
I can accept my imperfections rather
than suffer in the desire to be rid of them. to be rid of you.
I can be still and know
that it is ok.
I’m ok, you’re ok. and I intermittently have my **** together.
I’m sorry things are not working out between you and me,
bipolar disorder.
but I’m not sorry that without you,
my life is ******* beautiful.

I'm a little bit terrified that I'm
A real life
Manic pixie dream girl.

What if I only exist
To help others
Find their place in this world?

What if I'm doomed
To float in and out
Of depressive episodes?

Never having actually
Done much of anything.
A depthless side character

In my own life.

she was a neophyte to her own life,
syncopated heart beats to a still night.
occluded love behind steel bars.
ubraided her brain With mind scars.

staying reticent to the people her own home,
her transitory smile was well known.
for her smile was a beautiful sight.
it was left with the vestige of a loveless light.

only repudiation to what people preached,
feeling that her soul was a disparate beast.
her idiosyncrasies were inhuman in nature.
said to be intractable in her own behaviour.

never did she speak to humankind.
but inside her head was a loquacious mind.
only wanting a stasis within her sadness.
only to be taken by insanity and madness.

perhaps someday my poems will become better,
my writing will flourish, and my thoughts become settled.
til then I sit and write you this letter,
of how life can sometimes get you fed up.

the ink spilled through the fountain onto a foundation becomes darker,
the words that they create are those of the departed.
you sit in solice wondering what created this monster, trying to figure out what you just started.
a blank sheet of white covered in darkness,
when deep down inside you just wanted to feel as if you were heartless.
to feel what it's like to not feel at all,
so onto this canvas your well of creations fall.
realizing that what was vivid and bright
is now permanently stained by the sheltered broken words that were once in your brain.
your thoughts then try to figure if flames will suffice,
and so you put the sheet up to candle light.
hoping that the stained and destroyed sheet will demise.
but as you unfold it, the words cross your eyes
so you grab the well and the quill again just to write,
what everyone did and said to ruin your life.
and **** does it feel good,
it feels so right,
to put thoughts into words,
and those words into light.
and then you pause for a moment.
no more noise in your mind.
silence for once, everything feels fine.
and you look at your hands covered in ink.
you grab that paper as you read it and think.
these are your creations, and now you know it.
this is how the broken becomes a poet.

It's like
The sky came down and pinched the back of my neck
And took me too high too fast
So I shout
And I laugh
And I say inappropriate things
Other times it's like
The sky drops me and I know I'm falling
So I panic
And flail
And fight the inevitable
But it's no use there's nothing I can do to reduce the fall
I crash
I go real quiet and my head is tearing itself apart
My friends my family my own lover has no idea
What's going on
What it's like
Or how to help
Or that I know what's happening and can't help it either
So they get annoyed
Even angry
And so do I because I know it's affecting them
Almost as much as it's hurting me
So I cry
And I cry
And then I cut
Or snap my wrist with a hair tie
Because pain is the only thing that can wake me from the numbing terror
The grip of manic depression has on me