But Myself

 A somber soliloquy,

spoken to a room full of suffering patients.

An invisible illness,

identified by unusual behavior.

Hospitalized for being unable to function.

A simple soliloquy of confident contemplation.

Not a soul understood the pressure

to be positive in a pessimistic place.

Parading myself in misery

and the powerful desire

to triumph over this disorder.

My mind wandered to grant my wishes,

even if they were hallucinations.

I've spoken to the dead in the depths of my mind,

took advice from no one.

I'm Speaking To You

I am a figment of my own fantasy,

I dreamt myself up,

fabricated myself.

An authentic being,

illuminated by the inspiration

of everything I see, hear,

touch and consume.

In my past, I was blank as the pages I fill,

today I create life out of ink and squiggles.

Are you alive today?

Are you hanging by an inch of what I say?

Listen, my heart is empty of anguish,

it's been poured out on paper.

I'm alive today,

even if my body has decayed.

Until You Look Closely

 Confusion,

balled up

and twisted

to untangle.

Hands woven

within the wires,

bound to break

this mental clutter.

Arms attached to scissors-

cut through each wire,

string and rope

tangled together.

Anything can be accomplished

with the correct tools.

Even feeble minds

are capable of

miraculous crafts.

The talent behind 

the tattered and torn

ropes, wires and strings

is unknown.

From Anxiety

Thoughts spiral above my head,

a twister of chaos

destroying everything in its path.

Hands shaking,

holding tight to reality.

I must face this frightening fit of terror alone,

and walk with the chaos above my head.

The burden to bear,

of an unbalanced brain is bitter,

a cold taste of fear,

a hard swallow.

Wanting,

very much,

to be free.