“God, can you hear me?”
Such a childish plea.
“But God I’m your child, what did you expect to see”
Born unto demons, a demon you’ll be.

Bipolar, they called it,
the tide within me,
Rising, falling,
a moonlit frenzy.
You, with your papers and promises made,
Couldn’t meet the storm;
your respect decayed,
And I, adrift,
watched the world betray me.

I want my writing
To be profound
A work of art you just
Want to hang on your wall
And when you look at it
Day in and out
The words will seep
Back through your skin
And melt in your heart
And suddenly, you feel
Like someone you've never met
Knows you better than
Your closest companions
And somehow that's okay
Because now you know
You've never been alone.

This is to myself.
A reminder,
A note,
A warning.

If she ever tries to come back,
Don’t
Let
Her