Sometimes I leave in a rush
I fly down the highway
Always in a hurry to go somewhere
Do something, Be something
I stay out all night
Don't ever go home
No time for sleep
Always have to keep going

Sometimes I wake up and cry
I struggle to leave
I drive slowly
Tears down my face
Afraid that I'll return to nothing

How could I be so stupid
How could I not see
I've been too busy
Caught up in lifes' endeavours that
I forgot about who matters most to me

I can finally see why you did what you did.
I can finally see how maybe I tried too hard to make you The One Good Thing,
When you never auditioned for the part.
I can finally see all the memories for what they really were-
How even when we were wrapped in one another, we were never really a perfect fit.
And how I tried so hard to unbutton your heart,
I may have ripped some of the seams along the way.
I can finally see why you gave me that movie,
I can finally see why you always walked home,
I can finally see why you sent me your poem,
I can finally see why you told me you could never write a poem about me.

Will the
        light in the
        parking lot
show me who
       I
really am?

This
      midnight
               sun

      O,
how
I blind
myself.

The process is to accept
The progressive retardation
Wrought by chemicals
A necessary adjustment
Reevaluating meaning
Value and worth
There comes a point when realization dawns
The point where intellects breaks down to the base line of ignorance
Where attachment is severed
The process takes everything away from you
But not before draining it dry of anything worth having
And so the grandest theft
Becomes
The most glorious gift
Of nothing
(This is not easy to understand or comprehend,
It is the  chemicals patient handiwork that allows eyes to see
To see and ears to hear
To hear
Without their scientifically regulated tutelage there are very very few methods that work in the 21st century that give them that side car joy ride straight the ribbon of BEING into to prayer closet of Nievana
Those of us who aren't willing to give up the things we attach to
The very things through which we define our selves, our souls, our minds, our hearts and our spirits
Drop them, move on a live without
When you realize you are living without, drip dmsomething else
It is the most difficult thing in the world
Yet by the end of the pilgrimage it has become too easy
Happiness is with nothing
Nothing is a clean slate for your imagination to create upon
This is heaven - wants nothing to do with the world
Process of chemicals and lack of sleep
It's a good thing
Though they who follow the path  will be laughed at and scorned
By people who will never understand them
White trash bad *** and Rhoads scholar on the same page
"How can they live if not like us?"
You keep living, it's your calling
We are called to the realm of the supernatural
Where we will create our own heavens
Songs, stories,books , interactive movies we may never die
But if we do we know what we left behind
I wii not find I difficult to close my eyes
Having created in such a grand scale
Albeit with chemicals and ignorance guiding my way

Today was chill
I had breakfast with my cousin
watched my favorite shows
Read a fun book that kept my interest
Took the car to get an oil change
Went to work got done early
Thinking about choices I've been given
Reevaluating how I see others

I'm about ready to collapse
I can't go on
My days are full of pain
And my nights are nothing but me laying awake
Thinking about everything I'm losing
I'm bruising real easily
Probably because I'm weakening
I'm reevaluating my actions
My passion
If I don't succeed
I'll be locked away in self pity
Fall to my knees
Wave the white flag and retreat
You won't hear from me
I'm trying to be strong
But not for long
I'm standing as tall as I possibly can
****
Don't take everything that I am
Since you've left
I feel stuck in lost depth
I don't know where my head is
I've lost my mind
Can't keep track of time
I wish I could of said goodbye
You are being put in the ground tomorrow
That will be the beginning of my real sorrow
I'm afraid that if I sleep
I'll see you
I don't know if I can handle seeing you
I can't seem to move on
Its only been a couple of days
And I can't keep up
My head says to get over it
My heart says that's enough
I can't take much more of this
Stress is overflowing
I'm lost in an abyss
Everyone is trying to help
But they don't see that I'm sinking

Steady thrums and drums caused rifting thoughts,
Reevaluating why confusion is so important.
Curiosity killed the cat, the mischievous one.

The murderer made way with a simple alibi
A photograph in a collection of poems.
A whisper in a crowd of screams and shadows.

Things unseen, but felt, serve to remind
Why constant isolation won't was away the messages
Sent by a silence and a distant stare.

Open books stained with salt and spirits
Haunt a space that should not have formed.
Lava spills out like a child's science project.

Maybe it was an experiment. A torn open pocket in
The rationality contained in the ghosts of minds.
Quiet and demented secrets whisper cunning propositions.

And maybe it was just a silly dream in the mind of a *****.
Telling the true and false is never accurate, after all
Who are we to say what is right and wrong?

Write and erase? Just like everything that has
Ever been said. Eyes are wide awake, but the
Spirit behind them is a sleeping giant. Stupid and oblivious.

Don't move, don't speak, don't try to make sense
Of anything that anyone says, that's my advice.
"Everything will be fine in the end."

I’m sorry but I’m actually going to begin reevaluating my life. I need to buckle down, and just get things straight for once. I can’t continue wasting my time with pointless, mindless things. I need substance. I am going to improve academically and just **** all social insecurities. I’ll be out of this town in about a year, I can handle a year of solitude. I find it easier that way, anyways. So, I’m sorry for being a ****** person. But I’m not going to apologize for anything anymore, because if you don’t like me, don’t like my concern, don’t like my emotions, and most certainly don’t like the person I’ve become, then I don’t think you are worthy of another apology.

I’m sorry but I’m actually going to begin reevaluating my life. I need to buckle down, and just get things straight for once. I can’t continue wasting my time with pointless, mindless things. I need substance. I am going to improve academically and just **** all social insecurities. I’ll be out of this town in about a year, I can handle a year of solitude. I find it easier that way, anyways. So, I’m sorry for being a ****** person. But I’m not going to apologize for anything anymore, because if you don’t like me, don’t like my concern, don’t like my emotions, and most certainly don’t like the person I’ve become, then I don’t think you are worthy of another apology.

The moment I started to lose myself I knew it was wrong.
When I became comfortable around you it became apparent you were becoming an obsession.
My mind became clouded with only you.
I thought it was okay to feel this way.
I thought of you as my best friend even though what I felt was anything but platonic.
Those moments I became enamored with a mere smile from you.
When you started to ignore me I thought nothing of it.
But then your cold gaze would trap me in its ever unfamiliar way.
I didn't know what it meant but the fear would always be enough to keep me up at night.
Did I do something wrong?
My mind would then go in deep into myself to search for an answer.
Suddenly I was reevaluating who I was.
I deserved it.
She was leaving me and the only reason I could find was me.
My mind twisted everything around.
In order to protect myself, I blamed her.
She was perfect in every way while I was flawed in every way.
I already knew it but I kept hiding under a sheet of narcissism.
I didn't want to admit I was wrong.
I didn't want to apologize for my mistakes.
I spoke badly about her any chance I got.
It would come out of mouth bitterly and I just wanted to spit it out before I could realize what a lie it all was.
But of course, I would then step back and realize how wrong it was.
I held a grudge while she was off accomplishing and prospering.
I stayed in the past while she was making way for the future.
My anger dissipated over the years.
It turned into regret.
It turned into self-hatred.

quite a conundrum
this hum drum dumb song I've sung
with a numb tongue I'm quite stung
by my own bone I'm quite alone
wishing that I could've shown
wishing that I could've sung
all the right tones
walking on my tip toes
untying all these ripped bows
I'm trembling as I'm in the throes
of reevaluating all that I know
from here from here where do I go
on from here how do I go on

Reevaluating the character of people you are bound to is a good way to clear the clutter of your mind

when introspection goes wrong:
i thought too much and now i'm sad
should be the name of my autobiography
though there will be nothing but your name in the bibliography
as i tell my life's story interspersed with your wisdom
and hope that sharing your thoughts might help others as a mechanism
to living their best life and knowing
the difference between someone holding them back and someone promoting
them reevaluating the weight they give society's expectations
and instead taking that energy and devoting
it to self improvement and things that matter connoting
that they should be their own priority
something i could stand to learn from you
or at least take to heart when you tell me yet again

i guess
if i'm being honest
my "tired" looks an awful lot like
depression
if you hold it up to the light

and i suppose if truth be told
my "insomnia" looks more like
introspection turned anxiety
from late night over-thinking

and honestly, it's not that i'm "not feeling well"
it's that my executive dysfunction is getting bad
and that means it's hard for me to even function
on the most basic level that there is
and as much as it scares me to tell you all this
i promised i would always be honest
so here's the truth

i am just a ****** up girl
standing in front of a ****** up guy
asking him to hold her hand and tell her it will be okay
because
for some reason
i believe you when you say it

Dig, level, set
Frame, stretch, nail
Processes repetitive
Outside looking in
Bird ******* eyes
Perched upon porches
Deemed easy enough a job
Physical demand obvious observation
Biased evaluation without involvement
You can read a book
Watch a video
Learn the process
Yet what's lacking
When yours doesn't look
Nearly as good
Or picture worthy of pastel colors
It's the intricateness of an artist
The detailed eye of experience
The mental strain of determining
Where exactly is sufficient for a days labor
Where we are
Isn't satisfactory so more motivation
Pumped into fuel lines
As augers break ground
Eagle eyes marking straight lines
As muscle puts in place
Never enough to be where you are
With the next 15 line posts
Dug, post in whole
Prepared to be conquered
Reach the end of a line
Thrill of the adventure
The end post is reached for
Still wanting the excitement
Add a corner post
Chase a new line
New obstacles unseen
Hidden adversities take form
Roots, nature's little ***** trap
Electric and gas lines
Humanities little twist
Comical to one
Aggravating to three
That's life is it not
Series of stages
Building and building
Fundamentally the same
Different with every line
Panels a little short
An inch or two longer
Maybe a jog adding a curve
Avoiding a hassle
Prepared for with careful planning
Executed by lessons previously learned
Going with the flow
But keeping an appearance
Making individuality transparent
To even the untrained
Without a perspective placed in sweaty boots
You shouldn't determine
Whether this job or the next
Easy or hard
Take into account
Clientele, human behavior
Outsourced obstacles manufactured
Seasons change
Constant reevaluating courses of action
Orchestrating others with mutual benefits
As wallets become less hungry
Piggy banks no longer butchered
Building the fence
May look easy to you
With knowledge learned
Instead of implemented
What's the point of having a car
If you still walk everywhere you go
Knowledge isn't experience
Experience is wisdom
Making metaphors out of labor
You probably won't participate in
Understanding is the ultimate power
Learning life lessons
Without having to wage wars

i know better.
i know not to listen to songs like this,
   when i feel like this.

but i just do it anyway.

because i can't decide which
procedures, if any,
ever actually work.

reevaluating my
  traditionally avoidant behavior
  towards things that
trigger an emotional response,

i decided to just flip it completely
   and do the opposite.
   (i don't believe in much
   but i do believe in experiments.)

so when i suddenly hear
  that haunting viking-like
  gut wrenching solitary horn
  instead of diving for the
fast forward
i decide to focus on it instead.
put all my attention
into listening.

i try not to think,
just feel. let the words,
the music, the silence,
the bass,
all of it just hit me in waves.

(i think that might be the key.
because if you let it come
all at once,
and not in waves,
you would surely suffocate)

waves lead
to crying when it's
a song like that.
because you know
| it's love |
some kind
of love.
it couldn't be anything else.
there is no off-brand
or substitute. it just is
whatever the **** it is.

i mean, what possible meaningful
defense can you have
against something
  you don't even understand.

like chaka khan,
please don't do this (sweet thing)
because my heart can't take it.

Here,
A space of healing,
Drawing close to expose the tender wounds,
In the upper room,
That haven’t seen the light in years.
The Father gently comes near,
Drawing into sacred, quiet embrace,
A dance so soft,
Its melodies rising and falling in the pattern of a heartbeat.
Breathing life into corners of shame,
Reevaluating,
Retelling old stories.
Is this what hope is like?!
Thanks, Lord, for this gift.

In Fall it's thick jackets, warm mugs of coffee or hot cocoa, fuzzy blankets, red noses, chills of the unknown along the spine and reading folktales.
Waiting for the Cold because I binge read my to-be-read list when it's too cold to go outside. Sometimes I go outside anyways because the smell of crisp autumn leaves, the shiver of curiosity, the tingling of knowledge flowing through the mind and the joy of embracing the mood-swings.
Waiting for the Cold because being bipolar means having grief that makes you relive the past, reevaluating friendships, and getting caught up in past moments.