Half-formed thoughts and raging emotions swirl in my head
And sweep down my body,
Crashing over and sucking me in like the riptide of the sea.
In this place of irrationality and fear
Logical thoughts and reasons are gunned down where they stand,
Their obituaries never printed in the local news.
I want nothing more than to cry for help,
To change my fate,
But should I do none other than sink to the floor and wail
I feel I shall never be understood.
A white jacket seems more probable;
More ‘in store’ for me
And if I were to disagree, then it would do nothing but validate my instability.
The instability is not my fault—I claim no responsibility.
I’ve been handcuffed to a pendulum swinging between poles
And the only way out
Is certain free fall.
Too bad
No one ever taught me to fly.