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Rated: E · Poetry · Women's · #2185930
My first attempt at using the written word for self-healing.
Today is a day, just like any other day.

That I wait and hope for some kind of truth to come through and shake me into realization.


Listening. Sounds. Jitters. Rapid heartbeat. Sleepy.

Trying so hard to stay calm, yet my mind is like a clock.

Ticking with the gears constantly in motion.

Never at rest.


Do I do this or do I do that.

Excited. Enthusiastic. Defeated. Out of time.

One idea after the next, flowing through my mind as if I only have seconds left to complete them.


There it is and now it is gone.

Forgetful. Overwhelmed. Confused.

Where am I? Why am I here? What was I doing? Is this really me?

Was my past real or was it all some sort of fucked-up misconception that my brain concocted to torture me?


I guess today is its own day. No set pattern. Random.

Learning to accept the chaotic truth of being bipolar.

This is my truth.

It won't always be, that I can realize.

That I can accept.

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