deepundergroundpoetry.com

Bi Polar 1 - Jerome 0

I once closed my eyes and found myself drowning in endless spider webs of unoccupied corridors of confusion beneath singed wings of tomorrow. I sometimes awake half dead in a mausoleum filled with the ashes of past memories of happier times mentally, when I didn’t have to make a habit out of scaring myself by standing over my own body wishing for more time to do the things I wasn’t already a slave to like shots and pills. What am I even complaining about? Even the stars seek refuge in space due to the giant bully know as gravity.  The same gravity that allows us to make a wish on them as they perish and fall at super sonic speeds to the earths floor.  The same gravity that causes water damage to my melanin by sinking it’s hooks directly into my eye sockets and without warning pulling rivers of tears down my face for no other reason but poor mental health.   I’m now haunted by the ghost of future me wandering around aimlessly looking for his long lost joy that’s slipping away at this very moment. Causal conversations with my ghost in a house of mirrors that only reflect darkness and carries thunderous echos of silence.  So now as I mentally fall from the highest of heights my mother always told me to hold my head at, You now have permission to make a wish on me…excuse me, I mean a wish FOR me. Wish that I was more of a mentally stable Husband for my wife, wish that one day my daughters will see some kind of strength in me, wish that one day I will be the type of man that my son wants to be like and finally, wish that my sight returns from the cascading tears of guilt and sin that have burned my eyes down to just pupils but,  I still have hope and vision….the visions of dodging damnation where, I hang upside down and I’m  baptized feet first in hell fire for walking in sin on earth and for pleading with the devil instead of talking to god and holding on to the hope of,  after I perish these words don’t strike you as odd because you know my heart just not the depth of my mental so try to avoid getting sentimental because my ghost is me and I am him but he plays to win,  so hurry and make your wish on me before my light finally dims.    
Written by TheParadigm1982_40
Published
Author's Note
This started off as just another bad mental health day that turned into a piece of freedom and therapy.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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