"bipolarity" poems
part of me
stands
as a stiff bust
in the center of the square
(no one cares anymore. it's been there for a long time)
part of me
dances
as a shameless plastic bag
gone with the wind
(it is disturbing. its plasticity is too mobile and *****
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 9:02 AM UTC
i long to hear your voice,
to laugh and just be there for you again,
just to be with your presence,
just to see that glimpse of your soul again.
we used to be something,
everywhere i go, everywhere you go : we used to be an item,
and, now, i walk with a new crowd, you walk with yours,
yet my heart yearns for you,
there's a hole when you left,
and, i can't just fill it up,
everything seems meaningless,
there's no spark in my life without you.
i feel this emptiness.
this gaping hole,
which just keeps on growing,
the one you made when you left,
because i have chosen the wrong one,
i made the wrong choice,
i did not picked you..
when i breathe at night,
my throat constricts,
it chokes up,
memories flood in my silent night.
i remember the days,
our days,
when it is just you and me,
in our own little happy bubble,
rain, snow, fall, sunshine,
you were there for me,
in my light and in my darkness,
in my good and in my bad,
you never complained,
you held me,
you were my glue that prevents me from shattering,
from my melancholic train of thought,
when i fall, you were there to hold me up,
you embrace me in your warmth,
when I’m all melancholic, you were there to cheer me up,
you know when to buy me flowers,
you know when I’m sad,
you know whether i'm just feeling sad or when it's just me in my melancholic moments,
and you understand that its just a phase,
you know me the way no one knows me,
you’re my everything,
you’re my valentine,
you WERE my valentine.
now, that you're gone,
I’m building a fort now,
just putting up walls after walls,
layering them up in solitude,
after all the heartbreak I’ve felt this year,
all the betrayal, all the confusion,
all the dark colours of human nature I’ve experienced,
because, i cannot handle that amount of pain ever again.
despite all my defences,
the walls that guard my heart,
the scar you left me,
it's still there.
all i can do,
is to be reminded how good you were for me.
i am much more stable now,
yet i crave for those days where you were always there to support my craziness,
you embraced me for who i am,
you never call me stupid when i am being irrelevant,
you never call me dumb when i am being illogical,
my bipolarity was never an issue for you.
you were my yin to my yang.
i love you so much, val, i still do.
i have never missed someone as much as I’ve missed you.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
This poem indicates my scatergorized pattern of thought
We are a generation of gas masks and 3D glasses
Now we are a nation of bullet proof vests and USB drives
Grotesque regurgitated shallow sympathy
Universal imagery
I’m no type of Sadducee
In medicated revelry
Mood disorders and bipolarity
Inspiration
Found at the bottom of a decanter from Macedonia
Truculent truths and the opposition of common place thought
Andy why am I so indignant prey tell?
Because
I
Am
Drunk
Ha ha ha
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
My bipolarity has lead me to no truth
Just mixed emotions and no thoughts of a you
No thoughts of a me, life, death or rebirth
I am otherwise blessed with a curse
Can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t even begin
My start is at the exact same point as my end
Nothing even matters
All care is lost
I’ll still seek a successful future
But these hopes are store bought
I wish it would rear its ugly face south
I feel every nothing from my toes to my mouth
In the middle of the compass
The magnet has yet to guide me
And joy right now seems just too unlikely.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
I desire a metamorphosis
I know, I feel,
Life can be better than this
I'd like to rise
A majestic thing
With grace and his glory
Shining in my wings.
Take flight
With colours rare and true,
Pretty like the chalkhill blue
Or glowing like the
Monarch's orange hue.
But instead I am trapped
In the cocoon stage
Wrapped up,curled
Stuck in sinful nature's cage
Wings not yet unfurled
Imprisoned by fragility
Brought on by bipolarity
Kept in emotional intensity
For what feels like eternity
But one day soon
I will feel free
From the cocoon's shackles
That bind me
I will feast on the nectar
Of His good word
And soar and flutter by
Free as a bird
Free in the sure certainty
The promises he's made
Sure of my saviour's love for me
My debts that he has paid
But yet I still feel like the caterpillar
Fumbling around
Still finding my way
I'm grateful for creation
Still orange striped and hairy
Yet not at all scary
Awaiting transformation! :)
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
antiquated diatribes
hackneyed bromides
deflated explosions
unreal delusions
sycophantic embraces
hiding disgraces
cult of bipolarity
words of triviality
obsessively unceasing
yawningly unentertaining
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:48 AM UTC
I play Mediator, mediating between two strongly influencing Forces.
They are of different spaces, but each knows of the Other.
I listen to them both osmotically, they are often at odds with each other.
I am a practiced listener, objective enough to understand the nature of their Stance.
I retrieve below the surface message, the empathic persuasion in me does this well.
Such accounts for any bipolarity I might exhibit in thought or emotion.
One Force thrives on impulsive pleasure, in behavior there is tremendous energy and manic spontaneity.
No concern with inhibition or societal conventions. I must always keep in check a childish tendency to center motives solely upon itself.
This is when I make intervention and repeat the Lesson of Conscious Expansion....
I have Authority and so of course this Force listens and quiets it's power back to steady periphery.
The other Force is Otherworldly.
So Extreme, it by far surpasses me in ability.
This Force I tap into, I listen to its subtle inflection, it's Perception is uncontainable, it's Language is unexplainable, but Understandable to the Sensitive Senses.
Here is the Gift, that must be earned, must be learned and respected in the Temple of my Soul.
It must be carried through the plight of Spirit searching, knowing no discontent or schism, no division, or derision.
I draw down this Force, I pull up on the Other One.
Puts me in center position.
I Am the Mediator
I am the Borderland between these two worlds that exist in Me.
I will attend to my duties.
I Am the Mediator
of Me.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
I'm sorry,
because when we first met I was completely and altogether taken with you.
You had this quirky charm that made me feel comfortable,
made me feel safe.
No matter what was going on,
you just seemed not to care and I took your indifference as a kind of
cold confidence.
And I won't lie,
I liked it.
In groups you shifted between being the center of attention
and having literally nothing to say.
Your social bipolarity
sometimes
led to late night blarings
of Katy Perry.
(I'm vaguely ashamed to admit that
I would dance like a loon, through my old house
and lip sync furiously
at the idea of your Hot and Coldness.)
I'm sorry
because of that one night.
That night when you made some joke
about how we were such good friends.
And I broke down crying and told you absolutely everything.
About how I had liked you,
for so long,
and other foolish things I should've kept to myself.
I'm sorry
because it turns out you felt the same way.
Feel the same way.
Feel that way.
And something happened.
And time passed.
And things changed.
Well, for me they changed.
I'm sorry
because I haven't told you.
I don't know how to tell you.
How do I say it is not you I care for in that way,
but the idea I had of you.
How do I say it,
when I only just admitted to myself,
that this time,
my idea was wrong.
I'm sorry
I was wrong.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
does my bipolarity
strange-sounding word
does it affect my poetry?
sometimes my poems
are
a bit absurd
one up and cheery
next solemn and dreary
one bouncy and bubbly
another quite ugly
That's just who I am
I'm up, then I'm down
can't help what I'm feeling
can't help a melt down
but I get back on track
a new day
a smile and sunshine
can bring me back
though on meds
to keep me in tow
I still have highs
I still have lows
we all do, I think
sometimes we're not the best "us"
sometimes we're just out of sync
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
If I sat here right now
And held it to my head,
I think I could pull the trigger.
I could send a piece of hot lead
Flying straight and true
Through my ****** up head.
I’m sure you’d be surprised,
Wonder why I’d done it,
Why the hell I was dead.
You’d say that there was a lot for me here,
That I had a life worth living.
Look at it how I do:
I’m seventeen,
Still early in life,
Yet my head is so ****** up.
I hate my mind.
If it’s so bad now,
How will it be then?
Would I be able to function?
Would I be living a life full of hatred?
Manic depression,
Bipolarity,
And paranoia.
These things all plague me.
They are badges that I wear
Not represented by my acceptances
Or my grade point average.
To top it all off,
I feel so severely alone.
I’ve begun to live my life mindlessly,
Like a human drone.
I numb myself,
And you see me smile,
But that’s just a mask
That I can don for a while.
I see no point in going any further.
I’m that kid at the party,
Who just sits and hurts more.
The one thing that consoles me,
But strikes fear and panic attacks,
Is the fact that god does not exist.
He plays no part.
So when we die,
That is the end.
We live our lives,
Never again.
So taking mine has a certain finality,
An ultimate end.
It’s a ceasement of pain,
A darkness that the
Mind cannot comprehend.
If I held that gun now,
I could do it.
I could really do it,
My friend.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
WARNING!
Please do not take this unless
you want to risk losing all respect, care, interest, and relationships with friends, family, and or the general population.
Side Effects may include anxiety, paranoia, bipolarity, and lack of integrity, as well as highly common lack of sleep.
DO NOT TAKE if not prescribed by God, any saints, and any angels.
Or better yet just don't take it at all this WILL ruin your life for good.
Please take responsibly.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
Dear life,
My simple rudimentary existence
Is ready to be
GONE.
If I’m gone,
How much pain will there be,
To equate the joyful memories?
If the world’s
an open letter,
I’m unread.
A bad ink,
Erased.
Time-worn.
I’m an empty piece
Of a shell
Living life’s own accord.
Stuck in mediocrity
Whose ambition is neutered
by self-doubt.
When I’m gone,
I’ll accept nothingness
With tacit acquiescence.
Would society remember
The chasm
of my bipolarity.
Their sardonic humors,
Smother me
to death.
Their greatness
Makes me
So small
When I’m gone,
Let them be aroused,
about my idiocy.
And thereafter,
Let them forget,
about my early demise.
Let this mortal coil,
be unwashed,
From a colossal of insecurities.
When I’m gone.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
So she says that I am
enchanting.
Maybe I'm just a fool
surrounding
you, wasting precious air.
This is called
Bipolarity dear.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
*I do not celebrate Mother's Day
What is a mother?
a polaroid that gradually loses its color?
An air conditioner so broken all you can feel is the chill in your bones?
A staticky sound that turns into an overwhelming shriek?
An accomplice to anxiety?
A trigger to bipolarity?
what is my mother?*
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Nah. Y'all are always romanticizing depression and bipolarity but yall for real don't ******* understand the struggle until you've been without your pills and suddenly you get them back and they lowered the dosage when you needed higher ones. I'm sobbing right now because I cant seem to get up to being even halfway normal. And yeah, normal doesn't exist, but you know what **** sure isn't normal? Struggling not to **** yourself every single day, struggling not to switch your moods because that **** is impossible, and sometimes you don't even realize it until you're being yelled at right-back, then you get your feelings hurt because you feel like everyone's against you because WOW welcome to mental illness. I can't help being so ******* impulsive and scared and **** You know, this **** feels like ******* trash. You feel insecurity on steroids and you can't keep a ******* relationship of any sort stable. **** ***** One moment it's like I love someone so intensely that ill die with them, and the next they could just disappear and I wouldn't give a **** I feel like everyone's against me when I don't have my meds and then they go and lower the dosage???? Do you have any idea how long I went undiagnosed andunfuckingtreated? That **** almost killed me. I get a chance of being just ******* okay. Just content and this **** happens. Am I being overdramatic? Yeah. Guess what. It happens with BPD and bipolarity. The paranoia that's stress-based. Loss of contact with reality. Suicidal threats or behavior or self-harm are usually in response to separation or rejection, and like I said I already feel like everyone's against me cause of this **** And then on top of that, there's my depression and anxiety. Let me ******* tell you, this **** is torture. I want just a day. Just one where I can feel like I'm okay. But go ahead keep romanticizing depression and anxiety and bipolarity and BPD, but you don't ******* get how much this kills you inside and out. I'm done with my rant. I feel better. Getting through life one day at a time. I just needed to get this off my chest.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 12:29 AM UTC
My eyes, they lie;
an awful lie they tell,
My brain trembles;
by this sinful spell.
My mind, it splits;
bipolarity and depression,
My teeth plaques;
from witty perception.
Let my sight be blinded;
by love whom existed none,
Hell awaites my hollow chasm;
my life pointed by a gun.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
HAHAHA
BOOHOOHOO
You made me laugh
You turned me blue
HAHAHA
BOOHOOHOO
Please wake me up
From this disquietude
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 8:29 AM UTC
Very grim. You
promote the copperheads.
Lakes go dry.
I cannot stop
thinking, watching incessant,
the rains.
Waters send- the
crimson clouds to hide the sun.
Now that ice melts.
Become genderless.
You are walking on a
sleeping volcano.
Where the three
rivers meet, I stand on the bank
to watch bipolarity.
We are not yet dead.
Some wherea flutey whistle calls.
Follow the flames.
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 9:18 PM UTC
Sometimes it's a rush.
It's energetic to feel,
All at once.
Yet, I want to restrain
From such vulnerability.
Detachment I seek.
I find no shelter.
When I feel, I loathe
Such weaknesses.
Yet, when I feel not-
Even the slightest *****
I curse at such barriers.
"Forbid me not, to feel."
I am my own enemy
In this psychological state.
I let darkness engulf me.
Whole.
Sometimes it's a rush.
It's energetic to feel,
All at once.
I feel it in my veins,
My blood. Yet, somehow,
I fail to fathom,
How I have come to love,
But come to despise-
Feeling.
Crazy you may call me or
Maybe challenged-
But I understand at some point.
I fail to comprehend at the same time.
Maybe that's a sign,
That I need help,
Relief from my foe.
Me. Myself.
In this
Psychological state
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC