When you're bipolar you can't really control your emotions. Everything hits you like a wave. And you can't take it all in because it's exactly like being hit by a wave. You panic and try to grab a hold of the ground to keep you from going deeper, but the grip loosens and the next thing you know you're neck deep.
Her legs move like the gears
on a train, as she runs past
My eyes. I sit on the bench
by that trail, when she pans
to me, I see her eyes. The
music in her earphones sound
like an air horn. This is a
living train running through
my land. I let out a breath
of laughter out the Whole of
my smile. After which she smiles
back, returning the photograph.
I kept thinking. I need to
start running this trail. No
wonder why, I was sold by
her sail. It didn’t take me
long to catch up with her.
She was a train, I was a
rollercoaster. I loved the
idea of talking to her, &
holding hands as we’d run.
But no real words were
found in me and I lost her
with my ups and downs. I’m
a clown, I’m the happiest,
saddest guy in town.
It’s two nights later now.
I’m sitting on a bench by
the train tracks, thinking
of her. I’m hooked on her
picture. I’m happy to see
her, but feeling the worst.
I haven’t seen her in days,
she hasn’t seen me in hours,
so I’ve heard. I’ve given up
on the trail and on meeting
her. But she hasn’t given
up on me, so she comes, and
Life is so hard sometimes.
It pulls, taking the table cloth
along with it.
It strengthens, taking the tide
along with it.
talking the moon
out of its misery
wishing it were daybreak
but when day arrives,
the moon wishes it were night.
Round and round we go
on this roller coaster called life.
Hanging on is so difficult
with responsibilities tugging
at the mainframe
about to crumble apart like
break pads crumbling under
the weight of it all.
A pressurized catapult or
catalog explaining the width
it takes to squeeze through
the trash chute without
crushing anything of importance.
Holding our breath
as the bumps become clear
afraid of the coaster
slipping off the tracks
and plummeting into
the frigid unknown.
Luck is only heresy
in this world of uncertainty.
But cars can be fixed,
jobs can be taken,
and bodies can be satisfied
in ways unheard of in reality.
Life is so hard sometimes.
But looking at it with new eyes,
with a combative, stubborn grip
on the cold steel handle,
a roller coaster can be both exhausting and exhilarating
if you know what to look for.
i am at the top of a roller coaster. the top of the dreaded drop. i dread it because i hate roller coasters. i did not chose to be on this ride. it was chosen for me. once the ride drops, i am unprepared. the panic comes, it stays the whole way. it's excruciating; the pain in my stomach, the unappeasing alertness in my brain - i cannot handle this. the heaviness of the situation exhausts me every time. i never have been able to. i will be on this ride until i die. a ride i do not want to be on.
I...I love you
I love you so much, I just can't gather the words in my head to put together to explain.
Explain how this came about.
What? when? why? how?
How do you go from falling in love ,to being in love, to not being in love at all?
Talking just about every day, to not talking at all.
Seeing them, to not seeing them at all.
Why do we love love, when love doesn't love us back?
Its a mess
I miss you!
I miss you, but only the thought of you.
I want you, but only the thought of you.
The thought of you is attractive, but I can no longer ride the roller coaster of emotions anymore.
The thrill of traveling to the highest peak of the ride, arriving to cloud 9.
Until everything comes to a stop, all hell breaks loose.
Speeding down to the gates of hell.
Just when you think you're done, the ride still continues.
I'm tired... I'm done!!!
If I knew that I would be treated this way, I would've never chose this ride.
It's clear that you don't care!
So why should I?
I... I hate you
I hate you so much, I CAN gather ALL the words in my head to explain.
To explain how this hate came about.
Thing is, I'm more afraid of being happy
Than of being alone and lonely.
Happiness doesn't feel real.
It feels like a mirage in a dessert.
It's not real.
It only lasts for so long.
And once it's gone, you will feel worse than before.
I often think that sadness is better.
Though sadness sometimes shakes me
It doesn't break me.
It can't because I'm used to it.
I can't feel worse if I don't know what happy is.
Every day, we start our usual pace
unaware, how we follow, get ourselves into the race
going fast... becoming faster
sliding up and down, like a roller coaster.
It could be on one fine or not so ordinary day
on an unknown place along the way
we fall....get lost.....we stray
To find our way back, we retrace
But when speed becomes intolerable, or unbearable
we then pack up...we conclude, "today is unmanageable."
We inhale...exhale...settle.........make up our minds,
say, "tomorrow is another day..." we leave the past behind.
We walk anew as the day begins...keep up with the pace
try to do better... to stay within the race...
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan