“You haven’t met the right guy.”
“How’d you know you don’t like it,
If you have never tried it?”
“Sexuality is fluid.”
“Everyone’s a little bit gay.”
“You weren’t born like that.”
“Someone must have hurt you.”
“But I could turn you straight.”
Continue reading ““You Don’t Look Like a Lesbian””
Ever since I held my pain,
Twisting it to poetry,
I have never been the same…
Expressive arts therapy,
“Sorry, that doesn’t sound real.”
Writing poetry about illness,
A silliness with nothing to lose.
Continue reading “Pain into Poetry”
Over stimulating keeps you running,
Free time congregates over-thinking.
You would rather drag the deadweight,
Than exist part of the moment.
Even when running on empty,
Where there’s nothing left to carry.
Continue reading “Time’s Up”
No one answers the question:
How are humans supposed to feel?
Begging the follow-up inquiry:
Do all mental states possess illness(es)?
Continue reading “We’re All Mad Here”
Nearing the final level,
A coinless Sonic is hit,
No lives left to revive him. . .
Yes / No
Continue reading “Game Over. Start Over? | Living with Bipolar”
Life’s full of people needing things from you,
Sometimes it’s supplying true interest in them,
Sometimes it’s comforting words when they’re lonely.
Life’s full of you needing things from people,
Sometimes it’s gifting advice to halt your mind,
Sometimes it’s holding you during a breakdown.
Continue reading “I Can’t Be Everything for Everyone”
A poem began to form as I fell asleep,
I was too exhausted to write it down,
Instead it ebbed and flowed on by.
Even as unconsciousness took me,
I tried to grasp onto the stanzas,
While they withdrew inside the vault.
Continue reading “No Poem November”
All my grandparents have left,
Yet none of them are gone.
They left behind disease,
They left behind old age,
They left behind suff’ring.
Now it all starts anew,
Every spirit’s next step.
Continue reading “Souls Don’t Die | A Poem for my Grandparents”
Wonder if I truly need them,
Ponder what changes due to them,
Fonder each day passes without them,
Absconder each night staring at them.
Continue reading “Medicated | Living with Bipolar 2”
Whenever August 1st comes around,
“It’s the beginning of Birthday Month!”
I’d play along to a certain extent,
More times than not I’d also tease,
“People only get one birthday,
No one gets an entire month!”
Continue reading “In Defense of “Birthday Month””