Why won’t you work correctly for me?
You give me thoughts,
Just not the ones I need.
You keep me up every night,
Telling me to be anxious about EVERYTHING;
Racing thoughts at an uncontrollable speed.
You play tricks on me, and tell me lies.
Everyone hates me, trust no one,
Do not believe what I see with my eyes.
You hide words that I need away,
So I search for the right ones.
But you stop me from saying what I need to say
You interfere with the working of my hands,
Stopping messages I send that tell them to work,
Surprised at where my hands land.
You make me feel sick, my stomach upset,
And cause incredible pain in my head.
But alas, you are not done yet.
You leave me in a fog, blurry thoughts;
Sometimes I can’t find my way out,
Like I am trying to escape, but I always get caught.
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About the Creator
J. Delaney-Howe
Bipolar poet. Father. Grandfather. Husband. Gay man. I write poetry, prose, some fiction and a good bit about family. Thank you for stopping by.
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But Still Comes the Dawn
This poem highlights the struggles some people with Bipolar have at night. It is me. I am some people. My hope in writing so openly about my mental health is that someone reads it and feels they are not alone. Like someone else actually struggles with the same things in the same way. You are not alone, and still comes the dawn.
By J. Delaney-Howe2 years ago in Poets
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It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Fabulous piece, and one I can relate to. Well done.
That was really well done. Your descriptions were so spot on. I feel so many of those things right now with fun hormone changes. Excellent work :)