Free Me

I wrote this poem back in early November (2016) after having another one of my...what can I call it? Tantrums? Bipolar moments? Existential crises? I have a lot of intense moments in which I question all of my reality, why and how I fit into it, the purpose behind it all, the reason behind my consistent grief despite having no real logical reason for being so depressed so often. I feel caged by these moments, especially their unpredictability, the complete loss of control, and the moral hangover that haunts me after each time. I fucking hate it, but it's a part of me. So, I finally found words to express that part of me:


I am alight
The grease runs down the walls
Thick smoke collects and stagnates
Heat and ash invade mouth, nostrils
The taste grits between my teeth
Grimy and loathsome
I scream out in defiance
But it only gets hotter
So, I weep, instead
Salt staining my arms
Thoughts writhing around each other
Uncomfortable
Lacking destination
Irrationality borne from fear and grief
Confusion
Loss of humanity

Right before dawn breaks
And sunlight warms the room
Resonating a foreign memory of love
So gaunt
My mute, red eyes seek its living light
Healing myself, remembering myself
I shake the ashes from beneath my feet
Step out into the day and grimace
Then smile.