There have been many years of flailing,
my life lacking in solid intent,
and I wonder, where am I going,
am I even progressing?
Hoping for something to shoulder all the weight from my listless life.
ย
Itโs as though I am simply floating in a mass of water,
stagnant appears to be the tune,
the water dank,
murky,
like my lacking of good fortune.
ย
I used to be so focused,
attentive and driven,
full of concentration,
dedication to my art,
my music,
my academia,
the processes.
ย
Now, I am simply waiting to expire,
growing older by the second,
each tick a stretch from the previous,
to the finality of my last.
ย
I wish for something solid to aim for,
something to hope for,
something which I can reach for,
to impress upon myself,
to enliven and enrich my soul.
ย
But my dreams seem so far off
and lofty,
and unlikely to come to pass,
I can dream and dream
but surely someone who has become like me
will only finish last.
ย
And the truth of the matter is
I am here breathing,
stealing away othersโ rightful air
with my pathetic breaths which amount to little,
no,
nothing,
I am nothing anymore,
not what I used to be,ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย
burned away are my successes.
ย
And my desire for excesses,
all ceremonial,
seem an apparent method of
ridiculous and ostentatious showing of invisible wealth.
ย
Because,
while I like to sparkle and I love to shine,
the gems upon my fingers
and around my neck
are really the only things about me lately worth drawing the eye.
ย
I realise my tone is morose,
that I am lacking in lustre within my words,
although lifeless and downtrodden feels commonplace
from someone who used to outrageously feel. ย
ยฉ 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay
I am nothing anymore,
not what I used to be,
burned away are my successes.
This really got to me, and I can understand. Powerful poem and in it you share what it is like in this life. Thank you. I look forward to what else you bring on your blog!
Poetry is an amazing form of expression. I have dabbled in it, but I find writing stories as my means of therapy. I hope this poem was theraputic to write.
Poetry is wonderful, and Iโve only recently taken it up so am still learning myself. This poem was helpful to me to write, yes.
Iโm trying to look at your blog but unfortunately when I click on your link, it sends me to a page with a bunch of foreign characters and no words or images.
Yes, Iโve just read the projects you have planned, how exciting! I really like your Bipolar Writer Blog, from what Iโve read of it so far, it seems like a great community.
It is an amazing community that I have been lucky enough to help it grow. I am always looking for new writers and perspectives. The collaborative effort of the blog is why I love being an advocate. This blog is a safe place for people to share their stories in the right enviorment!
What a great thing to be a part of. ๐ I look forward to continuing exploring the blog! I have felt sometimes that my posts are too โsomethingโ, perhaps too depressive, angry, bitter, or some such, so itโs great that you have your collaborative blog as an avenue for those understand just how extreme these emotions can become for us with bipolar.
It can be so great to share the extreme emotions that come with being bipolar. The more we share this with the world the better we work to end the stigma! Thank you for exploring my blog!
Yes, ending the stigma is something definitely to aim for, for with opening up we can permit understanding and education of what the illness really entails. No worries, Iโm enjoying reading what has been posted on the blog. ๐
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