Let me set the record
straight.
Life on a silver platter
Should be fun and frolic
On a treasure island deep in
the tropics
Ensconced in the sheen
And shine of a pirate’s find-
Ropes of diamonds,
Emeralds and pearls.
But wait!
My silver platter was only
“plate”
And a thin coat at best,
Not up to any stress.
Looking at the decoration
My reflection blurs
As the edges of my reality
Begin to come unfurled.
Do not forget-
Mental illness picked me!
No one in their right mind
Would step to the front of
the line and say
“I’ll have your special of a
lifetime
That Bipolar Disorder Disease
–PLEASE.”
You know the one-
Up down
Happy sad
And just a smidge of rage.
Be sure you serve up side
effects
From the pills we pop each
day-
And why just a few extra
pounds
When forty-two will do-
Definitely the perfect
pick-me up
When I’m feeling more than
blue.
Don’t mention the lack of
Li-bi-Doe.
We don’t want others to know.
It’s pretty hard to strut
your stuff
When “just breathing” is
enough.
So go the years-
Speeding, sleeping, seeking,
adding up a life-
This disease is unkind.
At night the tapes rewind
I remember everything undone
forever.
The loss of friends, jobs,
pride-
The energy to play with my
child.
Yes, it’s a wild ride!
Not easy to be me.
Alone, but I am not.
The joy of the Lord is my
strength.
The love of uplifting hands,
The respect of those who see
my truth.
Here we go……
Headache for days on end.
A hard to find exit sign
In an overcrowded room.
Din and bustle of a busy
place
Standing in line,
And the lady in front of me
With a big purse,
Stepping back in her
self-possessing mirth,
Into my space
-three times.
A political Rally at twelve
noon
And no trees
In the summer swoon.
Anesthesia.
A full moon.
Generic Medication.
Flying
Hitting the curb
And throwing off my chemical
alignment.
Who Knows?
Put me in the middle of
An emergency
That stretches into weeks.
Or the unknown-
The not for sure
And even something good.
I am best- stressed.
I am a column of calm,
Beginning, during and for two
or three days after.
When the credits roll
I leave the theater
-and breathe,
Give up the role
As steady rock
And Nike tennis shoe.
I make it through.
And here I am today.
Waiting in line
Biding my time-
To appear
On a mental marathon
To raise a cure.
Until then -
Do you have lithium in a cup
TO GO?!!
Amy H Taylor@2006
No comments:
Post a Comment