on days like this it seems
there is not much to write about.
my mind blurs most things over
and I have become used to nothing happening to me.

my heart is a reckless thing;
it either pounds itself against my ribcage,
haphazard, rushing, angry,
or beats too quietly,
a noiseless bleat, a silence.

on days like this I wonder
‘what exactly might be the point of me?’
and it is never a question I can answer.
(I leave even most poems unfinished.)

on days like this my body aches
like a tired machine, rusted out far too early,
far too quick,
and it begs me for sleep.

but for a day like this one—
for this one I breathe through it,
breathe deep and long and clean,
and declare for no one but myself that it will be enough.
it is not so unsurvivable.

on a day like this one I sit back,
listen to the rain hammer itself upon the streets,
listen to the thunder scream just outside my window,
watch the lightning try to be its own sun.

I breathe in and exhale hard.
even now I do not know what to write about.
but what does it matter.

I convince myself that this—
it is not so hard.
not so unsurvivable.

I check for my heartbeat, and it is quiet—
but it is constant.
it is there.

my tallest towers so proud and most needed bridges
are just sandcastles too close to the shore
all of my kingdom carved all the valleys and ridges
can't weather my storms and wash away once more

being bi-polar kills you slowly but you never forget that you're dying
as each new attack comes even more fierce than before
family can forgive doctors can try but there's no denying
there's more pain in store and it's going to end just like before

with me trying to remember the cruel things I said in a rage
painfully recalling the monster I become without knowing
tearing at loved ones and shrinking the size of my cage
trying to recognize the face in the mirror with so many scars showing

and knowing that all of the days I feel great are only mania, not inspired
my accomplishments just the bi-product of a sickness infused
and they will all be burned down to ash in my fires
and a tattered soul so sick will continue to be abused

I ache so painfully in ways that make me insane
on my knees even without faith praying for anything I might regain
sick with wishing for answers to the behaviors I can't explain
spitting up, in cringes, bleeding out tears I can't contain

this beautiful life is so cruel through my eyes
in sunsets I see only the cold of the coming night
adoring a heart like mine isn't wise
and that truth leaves me to be alone in this fight

love the good in me because it's here if only fleeting
love my warm spirit as it loves you deeply too
love me for my depth and keep my heart beating
know that I cherish the peace I find with arms around you

then fear me for my outbursts and hateful tantrums askew
learn my love comes at a terrible price never paid
grow to hate me for words said and things I do
it's the unbearable cost of an unsurvivable trade

I might have days that I shine like gold
all they are
is my story half told

I am a monster

I am a monster

He is born amid
dust blown from
burnt and dried plains
powdered grime carried
past the James River
conveyed though arid skies
pelting window panes
penetrating cracks
and crevasses

She dampens
muslim sheets
wraps them
around his crib
catching sand
and falling chaff
like a coffee filter
captures grounds
from boiling liquid
draining into the ***

He survives
exposed to
horrors of the 1930’s
gradually he grasps
a new catastrophe
symbolized by woolen
uniforms embossed
with chevrons
and metals
for bravely killing
and destroying uncles
and cousins
committed to expanding
the **** nation

She cries
consols Granny
who frets in vain
repetitively rubbing
her hands across her knees
fearful as her native
beloved homeland
becomes scarred
war torn by
death and torture
beyond imagination.

He recalls crouching
beneath wooden school desks
practicing survival
of an unsurvivable danger
while nations
race to discover
an explosive intended  
to end all war

You feel like a warm day,
I feel like a burning building.

You shine and glisten,
I scorch and crumble.

You rise like the sun,
I detonate like a bomb.

You look like a rolling hillside,
I look like a blind cliff.

You go on for miles,
I’m a dead end.

You’re a gentle descent,
I’m an unsurvivable fall.

You sound like a country song,
I sound like an elegy.

You’re a sweetly ringing chord,
I’m a tearful, sobbing goodbye.

You’re a nostalgic love story,
I’m a painful flashback.

You taste like summer fruit,
I taste like rotting teeth.

You snap like a crisp bite,
I decay like a neglected body.

You grow and give,
I deteriorate and decompose.

You smell like warm bread,
I smell like burnt toast.

You’re a perfect morning,
I’m a worst nightmare.