She pushed me over…the edge…but you just watched.

She pushed me over,
the edge…but you…you were worse.
you just watched.
As I spread out eagle and jumped off
that great Ravine,
which we call the Edge.

It even surprises me.
This instantaneous
fucked up
suicidal feeling that emerges.

How easy it would be?
To disappear forever-into a pile of
psychotropic pills. To eat them bit by bit
swallow them all whole-just to
never feel this fucked up
anymore.

But I remain steadfast and strong.
I am no longer a goddamn child.
I’m not letting a bitch like you
ruin my life forever.

You already stole away my father-
that much is crystal clear
but what you underestimated
is i fight dirty
i fight back
and fight much harder
than your smack-

of bullshit and lies.
it ain’t worth it.
i refuse to go over an edge for you.
As my father stands silent-just watching me-

as a lucidity of a daydream
as my eyes grow wide-
and I threaten nonsense
I threatened suicide.

just to freak her out a bit.
I am no twit.
I had no intention of dying today.

But you should feel ashamed,
for messing with his mentally ill daughter.
Have you no heart, no moral compass, no inner guide-

Do you feel no remorse
for being a evil bitch
to me? You must be even far more
crazy than I am.

Don’t know why-
he married a fool like you?

The deep end of Loss

The deep end of Loss

contains Mourning and Grief-

A Sorrow so deep

that nothing can touch.

Growing older means

to her additional Grief and Sorrow.

Each death is in itself,

is one more test-

the loss only intensifies with age.

I witness her Grief and Sorrow

I wish I could erase the years on her pain.

But this I cannot do and my words

are just not the same.

She stands at the deep end of a pool

which holds all her tears of the losses

and pain-missing loved ones who has

passed into the great beyond.

Each and every death seems to only

compound her losses,

as she revisits the feelings of Mourning and Grieving.

I stand witness to this mostly

in silence.

I have a secret that she does not.

I know deep down she is strong and can handle it.

But this is something-this secret truth-that evades her

and all of her sorrows.

Each and every death hits her hard like it’s

a brand new experience and she re-lives each and every

death she has ever encountered.

I have no words for this.

I can only reach out to give her a hug.

The deep end of Loss

contains Mourning and Grief-

A Sorrow so deep

that nothing can touch.

Growing older means

to her additional Grief and Sorrow.

 

 

Tired and Wore down

Tired and wore out, wore down,

exhausted both mentally and physically-

ill both mentally and physically.

 

Somethings just not right

i had another panic attack

last night.

 

the ones where i forget

the simplistic natural art

of breathing in and out.

 

gasping, groaning, doing

a freak out.

I’m not sure what triggered it??/

a little bit of nothingness-

a whole lot of everything.

 

Just really starting to feel,

the flip side of the coin

less than ideal.

 

the side with the sad face,

instead of a smiley happy face.

the sorrow i keep gathered

under my bed of feathers

 

sorrow breeds depression

while depression breeds discontent,

resulting into an

overabundance of frustrated tears.

 

I am just hoping,

and praying that /

this time will be different/

please do not let things

remain unhinged.

 

if they do,

i will surely break again,

right down the middle,

split in half…..

 

my bipolar skin-case

for all the world to see

to create a mockery

of me and my crazy-train

 

i rode in on.

 

but still lingers the sparse flower,

the reddest rose, itself contains

a glimmer of hope

for me to cling onto

 

yet beware the thorns.

yes, beware the thorns,

beware the thorns.

 

they are real,

and they make us bleed.