Save Me

When I'm having my episodes, I don't project it I just tell you when it's happening but I don't understand it.

Sometimes I just sit in silence wondering. Wondering if today's the day that I listen to what these little voices in my head are telling me.

All I try to do is focus on the little voice in the back of my mind saying, “Breathe.”

But how am I supposed to do that and scream out for help in my time of need?

One voice saying, “THE CLOCK IS TICKING!” the other voice is saying, “SHUT THE FUCK UP & LISTEN!” But all I want to do is scream out and say, “SAVE ME!” “Save me.” “Save me.”

From all of this. These abrupt occurrences that has me sitting in silence with no explanation. “Save me.”

From all this mayhem and confusion. “Save me.” For I can no longer speak to the demons that are filled up inside me. “Save me.”

I'm calling out, but no one can hear me. “Save” is a syllable that can not be broken down into smaller forms.

“S”- someone.
“A”- actually.
“V”- volumetrically.
“E”- explain.

Why my brain is wired a different way. Why everytime I'm having a great conversation I just want to say, “FUCK YOU!” & walk away.

But I'm already fighting a battle that gets tougher and tougher every single day.

Shit, having bipolar disorder and schizophrenia don't play.

I tell you I love you one day.

And taking it back because I'm afraid.

Afraid of this disorder getting the best of me, having to explain myself consistently.. I’M SORRY!

I'm sorry for blowing up in your face. Being angry with myself because of the fact that I'm not able to explain why I just said, “It's over!” And slammed the door in someone's face.

This is my struggle that occurs almost every single day. I don't remain silent because I'm shy or because I'm trying to be thoughtful of someone else's day. I'm silent because I don't want to say the wrong thing and lose the relationship I've worked so hard to try to maintain.

A lot of you may think that maintaining means being happy, but for me it's just as simple as talking.

My biggest fear is having someone walking away and saying, “I can't handle the amount of apologies that you've made.”

If only you were able to understand how much an apology might mean to someone today.

I can't sit around here and write a full blown essay, but what I can do is say that it's okay if you don't understand me, but I know that many of you can relate to me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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