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death seems like the only chance of escape, these thoughts and the feeling that continuously rape me. forceful and strong yet i am so weak another bi-poloar statistic or freak, feed me the meds to help with my head when all that i wish for is the peace of death. lonely and cold i sit in place with not a smile to see or caring embrace. what i get is anxiety and locked down in this place.

im on the run from myself like a loaded gun and i cant get away maybe the depakote will kick in today.
ive been running so long and the pain is so deep no ****** idea where i belong as this freak. the pain never ends i cant even pretend i lost my brother to the needle when does it end.

sitting in the prison locked inside my head only choice is life or is it death
my girl keeps me sane the meds help the pain take a look deep inside
and you'll see i'm going insane. straight jacket made by northface then the bright walls blind me is this heaven or just another infirmary.

This poem is Copyright © Antix