Poems for the mentally ill

Sometimes it all gets a bit too much

~ Overwhelmed ~

I sit here and I weep, struggling too speak.

Yeah people become sweet, want to know

I'm okay, but tomorrow whens its fine again

they've all suddenly ran away.

They ask me why I'm crying, I say it feels

like i'm dying, BUT WHY!? they ask, and

i'm afraid i've simply just dropped my mask,

the cast around my heart has fallen.

Everyday this is my emotion, but it only

ever shows for a moment. Its hidden well

and triggered by a tiny event, but thats not

the real reason its just the first thing that's

opened the vent.

I wish I could tell them why I cry tonight,

explain that i've just lost my sight but i'll

be okay again in time... I'll always be just 'fine.'

Ha fine.

Such a little word that can mean so much,

a word that sums up every emotion in such

a rush. A word that holds my saddest secrets

and speaks my wildest dreams all at once.

But we're not fine are we? We were never fine

but we'll drown that with a bottle of wine. Our

tears will release that sour taste and allow us to

refill at our own slow pace.

It's okay to cry, its a good release. Release the

bucket and exclaim loudly 'fuck it.' It will fill

again anyway, and then you'll release it like

payday. You'll feel better temporary until you

reach a point where you no longer need drugs

too feel merry.

Hugs not drugs kids, Hugs not drugs.