If only I could just listen to you and abide,
but you don't know how I feel on the inside.
If only I could make you hear my plea,
but you don't seem to care that this bothers me.
If only you could see I love him and you,
but for you, I can't have the two.
If only you could see it's not as simple as "Your family or him", you don't see it as hard,
but you don't see this is making my heart charred.
If only you could see I'm not who you want me to be,
but you think who you want me to be is the real me.
If only I could make you see who I truly am,
but it almost seems as though you don't give a ****.
If only you could see how I walk around like I'm haunted,
but maybe if you did, you'd realize..
I'm not the daughter you wanted.

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.

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