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20 somethings, anger, anxiety, anxious, art, Bipolar, bipolar 2, bipolar disorder, Bipolar disorder 2, bipolar disorder II, bipolar dosorder 2, bisexual, crazy, creative writing, creativity, depressed, depression, dysfunction, fat, hypomania, hypomanic, introvert, isolation, lesbian, mania, manic, manic depression, mood cycle, mood disorder, overweight, pain, poem, poetry, sad, slam poetry, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, therapy, twenty somethings, weightloss, weightloss joutney
I am in winter –
I’m sitting in my room;
In the dreary dark gloom.
As my feelings go zoom.
My head and heart splinter.
Though my outside’s intact –
My insides do crumble,
As I mumble and bumble.
My actions I do fumble,
Stumbling against odds so stacked.
Against me, I envy those minds that are empty.
Living on bout their day with love and self worthy.
They smile so bright and I’m on my knees screaming;
They laugh and they shout, my depression is feeding.
I have nothing left but I give and don’t take.
Proving Einstein’s definition of crazy, head ache.
Touch and I touch but never do I learn;
If I’m touching to long, my hand I shall burn.
So I sit in my room in complete isolation,
The smiley happy people do give me deflation.
My admiration for their jubilation;
Gives affirmation to my aberration.
My indignation for my aberration;
Its dedication to my degradation.
Frustration is my consolation.
No respiration, my suffocation.
No titillation just moans and tears;
Will winter pass, never, I fear.