I’ve written a bit before about how important creativity is to me in my mental health journey. I think creativity’s power is often overlooked. It’s expressive, healing, connecting, expanding and freeing. I think sometimes too sharing creative works can present ideas we may not otherwise be able to share. So here’s another one of my poems, written about my experience with mania:
Mania @ 5:15am
I see a girl running in the rain clothes pressed up against her body like an embrace from a lover she’s forgotten or hasn’t yet had it doesn’t matter she is wild and she is free and she is crying tears it could be ecstasy it could be the crashing waves pounding in her soul it could they flood her heart her mind it could be drugs she can’t remember what she was doing BRIGHT there is only now she is running the other people’s eyes burn something like concern or envy she keeps running there’s blood and bruises each drop of rain tastes like gin on her tongue they are every shout she’s ever heard she is drunk on life her feet pounding are like every hit she’s ever endured punching in at work her at home no confines don’t exist she learnt the best tactics she plays the game and never loses she wins by losing every inhibition sense of self it is a mask feet gliding like she’s flying air lifting she’ll never need to breathe again not ever all is in this flight her plight ongoing shriek of breaks on wet tarmac like a shattered plate thrown at the head of an eight year old unsuspecting she’s young all the wisdom of a thousand years old keeps running keep running can’t be caught she’s the leader corruption of every leads the way to BRIGHT hope to know it
life live
Running don’t
slip.
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