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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1636369-Stolen-Mind
by mumto6
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1636369
A little poem I wrote about bipolar and me.
Stolen Mind

Do you think that I am crazy or think I have gone mad ,
One mintue I act so happy, the next I am down and sad?
You ask me many questions , the answers I can not find,
I know you are trying to help me, but I can not control my mind.
Would you call me crazy or think I was insane
If I told you about the man I saw standing in the rain?
What about the others , the ones who look unkind?
You do not see these figures, they are only in my mind.
I see the figures moving , fear washes over me, I freeze ,
How could I ever tell you , it is not something you could believe.

Would you still want me if I told you, some of the things that I really feel ,
Like somebody behind me , they are chasing me , but it's not real.
That fear,the panic the adrenalin, that makes me want to run and hide ,
Would you still want to be that man , standing by my side?
The thought someone wants to kill me ,while sitting on my own,
You have no idea how scared I am, when I am all alone.
The voices wake me in the night, although I cant hear what is said,
I lie there shaking next to you , too scared to leave the bed.

There is no way of me knowing when my mood will decide to swing,
Perhaps I might want to dance today , twirl around and sing.
I might walk out infront of that car , as it could not hurt me at all,
I am too high up in the clouds to notice that I could fall.
I will spend some money widely ,does not matter how much I waste,
For once I get that rushed feeling, I just savour the sweet taste.
Perhaps I will be angry and become agitated and not sit still ,
Then along comes the postman and in the bin, goes another bill.


Do you ever wonder why, I forget things that I have said ,
Somedays I am too frightened to even get out of my bed,
With no clue to what will be my mood , not something I can choose,
Out of choice I hope it is a high as then I never loose,
On a high I become someone else , someone much better than me,
I am invinsable to the world , I can do anything then you see.
I could be a writer , a model , perhaps I will be a nurse
But this is not really me , its a high mood which is a curse.


And then I hit the ground again and the depression does its best
It leaves me feeling tired , my mind just needs to rest
Then I turn into a monster, screaming I hate you, I want you out,
Sometimes you are scared to talk to me incase I start to shout.
I can not bear to feel you touch me , stay away I want to be alone,
Only I hear the knock at the door or the ringing of the phone,
I have no control over my feelings , I will often sit and cry,
This is when that voice creeps in, to tell me just to die.

This is a daily battle , not something that will go away,
Are you sure you can handle this , that you really want to stay,
I know that you are trying to love whichever person I have to be ,
It is so difficult to remember which is the bipolar and which is me.
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