I wake with shadows stitched into my skin,
Voices whisper low, then start to shout,
My thoughts collide, no silence left to doubt,
A war that rages deep and far within.
My pulse runs fast, anxiety takes its hold,
It floods my chest like waves that never cease,
I beg my mind to grant a moment’s peace,
But trembling hands still clutch the fear I hold.
Depression paints the daylight shades of gray,
It steals the warmth from everything I knew,
Turns hope to dust, distorts what once was true,
And drags my spirit slowly far away.
Bipolar winds keep shifting in my chest,
From soaring highs where I feel almost free,
To crashing depths that swallow all of me,
No steady ground, no place to stop and rest.
Schizophrenic echoes twist what’s real,
A fractured world that bends beneath my gaze,
Faces blur and time dissolves in haze,
I question every thought I try to feel.
Yet in this storm, a spark remains alive,
Though broken roads have led me far astray,
I fight the dark that hunts me every day,
Because somewhere in me, I still survive.