I understand the way these people feel because they feel the same way as I do. And in no way do I think they are bad, crazy, insane or any other form of derogatory remarks we incur. I myself have numerous scars from self mutilaton. I now want to write a book of poems on the ups and downs of bi-polar people. The wild ride we have. One such poem is called the ‘war within’.
in life, things are not always what they seem. when simple sorrows crush my smallest of dreams. many times I have looked for something or someone real in vain. and saw my hopes replaced by the invading remiders of pain. these images i try to keep hidden in some form of escape. only to see my past rush in and once again my peace it takes. like a thief disappearing into the night, gone without a trace. how will I be able to remain with a pain I can not face. i close my eyes, for sleep i do not know. only the rare shakened sleep. for in my nightmares, the haunted fear i tend to keep. when all around everyone believes they know how i feel. but, let me caution you these things i see and feel are real. to be torn from the shakened sleep unable to breath or speak. because these demons i fear are real and know no defeat. an endless battle i fight from the realm of places unknown. in my mind where the reality and balance of my past are shown. I have the constant battle to save myself from within. but, with the raging war inside i see no beginning or end. in this battle zone i hope for some form of relief. but, i know it will only come when my soul leaves.