The road I travel
Is long and rough.
It seems I get stupid
When things get tough.
I don't see clearly
How it's supposed to be.
Others try to help
But I'm blind and can't see.
It is hard to live
On days like this.
Sometimes I'm okay
Others I'm pissed.
I don't know why
It happens that way.
One day I'm crazy
The other I'm okay.
It lasts for a while
This feeling inside.
I stay in my bed
And do nothing but cry.
I had a bad week
And a fight with a blade.
I lost that fight,
But was not afraid.
I am here today
To tell you of this.
The feeling is gone
But it still exists.
I am getting help
To find out why,
Every three weeks
I want to die.
It isn't a game
This sickness I've got.
This was a rough week
And almost cost me a lot.
I'm through it now
And I'm still here.
But what do I see
When I Look in the mirror?
I see my face.
And a life of hell,
Flash before me
But I must live to tell.
I'll stay a little longer
And write what I know.
I'll write about the sickness
And that I'm not alone.
Others are out there
Feeling the same.
Broken and let down
Thinking they're to blame.
What did we do
To deserve how we feel?
This isn't a game
It is very real.
I don't know about you,
But my life's been hell.
This is a new start,
I must live to tell.

 
© Kristin E. Porter
2007