God, what a tiring journey
Still riding the waves against my will
I cycle rapidly through the tunnel that has the most beautiful poetry and music and art
Displayed on the walls,
And the one that’s bare but for one sign that informs me all of that is superficial, fleeting
I think about both arguments
Tell myself there is so much music I haven’t discovered
Then interrupt my own internal monologue
To say none of it will matter when I’m dead
So where do I go from there?
I sit in the sun and try to get what others get from it
Add to my bucket list
Try a new food
Write, sing, tell a joke
But when the night draws in the normality of my instability
Comes barging in
And I lie awake trying to make sense of it all.
I find it unnerving how angry I am to see sunrise
How uncomfortable it feels to live to see another day
It’s jarring, so maybe that’s a good thing?
The two sides of my psyche wrestle furiously at night,
So I cannot rest, sleep on it
The good and the bad, angel and devil, mentally well and unwell,
When good and bad duel at dawn the result is only ugly
Ugly thoughts, decisions, circumstances
And they manifest in the mirror
So I face backwards when I brush my teeth.