My Silent Resolve

When I found the compass it was bent and broken and the old prism, discolored and disheveled.  
But I found the clearest rainbow as the old prism projected it’s true colors.
 
While my mind might be a little warped, still, we are friends, my mind and me.
 
Although, thoughts from a narcissistic narrative have always torn into my heart, my mind and all the way to my core, I create my poetry through fantasy and a little liquid resolve.
 
Even when my compass swirls confused, in it’s many diverse directions, my thoughts leap backwards on a westerly wind from out of the past. We float across the city’s horizon and then on to nature’s landscape.  
 
I shall focus. I will stay friends with my thoughts for a long while, like a little of forever.
They are soon to scatter as I pick them up and toss them to the wind.
Then like a magnet they fly back into my head.
 
I will find the way back into my psyche self and try to breach my bipolar memories.
If I had my way, I’d stay mixed up in my reality a little while longer to conquer my shadows.
 
You come and see and you surely smile with me.
You are like the forget me knots.
You still believe in me and you’re still my friend.
 
Thank you.
I try, I really do.