Bipolar Dreams Poem by Emily Myers

Hope in the future holds me just above the surface
Yet sometimes it feels like having these dreams is so pointless
I refuse to become just another isolated stereotype
A pathetic girl who leans on the drugs you didn’t prescribe
Numb, I continue forward unaware of the ashes you scatter
The ashes of my heart fly across the wind of the soul you shattered
Therapeutic garbage that fills up the empty spaces
Making anger feel at home amongst the different faces
Masks unraveling, I cannot admit that I am just a girl
Held together by a smile which is being devoured by the world
In a new surrounding, I call upon a new façade to take over
The days are getting harder and I am only getting older