Madness, A Tale
resources for bipolar and PTSD linked below.
Today is three years since I lost my mind for the first time in forever.
I blinked and thought I slept for days and would never be fully awake.
I was told to make a list and listing went on and on for days
I tried to let my eyes cry,
But I was too busy writing who said what
And to whom and for what and why and in what ways
Listless, restless, voiceless I cried in ink
Then came the very important “when”
Who knew what, when
When couldn’t I breathe
How many days was I sick, and really sick,
And when was I well. Really.
The days turned into long weeks
And the weak turned in on me
I collapsed under this weight of waiting
For a decision
For what I was asking for was free
But I was a prisoner wanting news
News that would come by messenger
A factor, a facet, a word of hope
Something said that would offer fresh air
Something new, anew, that they would know
Something to happen to help me get well
Well, I’m still waiting with bated breath
Because this news hasn’t happened yet.
