In the midnight hours of my mind,
where the darkest shadows haunt.
The abyss that threatens to swallow me,
it is my very soul that is it's want.
At times the piercing daggers of light
that angle their way through the dust,
appear to be my salvation. Mania.
But these false emotions I dare not trust.
One second, joy and hope and dreams
of my life to be unfurl before my eyes.
The next, the walls crash about me violently.
The screams, the anger, the terror, the lies.
What spins this web of deceitfulness?
What spins this cycle of emotional insanity?
It is not the truth of what is my life,
but the tricks that my mind plays on me.
My mind and my heart are subject to the sea.
Stable and serene, tumbling and turning with the tide.
If fear is false evidence appearing real,
then BiPolar is its favored vessel and ride.
The peaks of the ride are it's manics.
Casting my emotions and my mind to extremes.
The depression is the dips, the loops, the tunnels, the plunges,
that are darkness and instability, more nightmares than dreams.
It's not always this way. At times the sea that is my chemistry can be calm.
I function, I live, I thrive, I love. I hurt, I ache, I feel, I am ALIVE.
But when things go so horribly wrong and turmoil is all that I feel,
then I must fight with all that I have in me to use, because dammit...I WILL SURVIVE!