Now appear in my mind as
I’m not who I thought that I was,
And society is
But they aren’t the ones that have to pretend to be okay
Bite them in the ass,
When they don’t feel like they belong
Bisecting their life,
Because they don’t feel
They don’t know what it’s like to
Five times and have to run a marathon just to feel human.
Just to feel like they have the right to breathe the same air as anyone else.
And that’s okay.
I don’t want them to have to go through what I am
And will go through
As long as I live,
Whether that be another minute
It’s not like timing’s ever been on my side anyways.
I don’t feel
I don’t mean to
That’s not my purpose in this world.
Or anyone’s for that matter.
But I feel bizarrely obligated
To speak up for my
Sisters and Brothers
That need someone to speak up for them,
Like I did,
And to beg of those that can’t yet comprehend to see that we aren’t just the
Little specks of dust
That some see us as.
We are human.
Kinda leaves a rotten taste in your mouth,
That’s because society gave us the flavoring we have now.
And maybe I’m over-exaggerating,
But that’s just who I am,
And in my mind,
I don’t see the good people,
But the ones that
And dig at your ever-diminishing pile of self-esteem
Are vivid in my imagination,
And in my reality.
So no, I don’t mean to under-appreciate those that don’t
And define us by our covers,
Without putting value to our internal beauty,
But there are some people that aren’t willing to
Open up our stories,
And try to understand them.
Maybe even try loving them, for once?
I’m trying to learn, myself, that being bipolar doesn’t define who I am, and that I don’t have to say goodbye to the person I thought I was, and still am.
I’m a person.
And that always should come first.