3 Days
3 days, thats what i had made it with out in attack....
with out falling, or crying or turning my back. im lost in my own mind,
i can’t find my soul, i know theres a shred of one left, i just know.
i can feel it, i know it, i see that its true, but my mind is the one that is hiding from you.
i cant make it stop, though i yearn for it to,
i think to fast, calm down cody, your confuzed. its true,
thats all you are its ok just step up, and show your self the strength and that you’ve had enough.
i can’t its to late, im possessed by myself,
why is there noone around that can help?
why cant they understand im lost, out of control,, where did i go,
where the hell is my soul
why am i this way
why cant i fight it,
why do i have to be so damn good, i can hide it
why am i excited,
im going to rip out of my skin
why do i have the biggest knife in the kitchen
why are these tears falling down
im enraged
why i am i smearing my blood on a page
ill tell you why, cause your crazy come on kid your sick,
you cant fight it because its you who causes this shit,
you can hide it because you have had years to fake,
your excited because your enthralled by your rage,
you ripping out of your skin because you cut your self open,
the biggest knife in the kitchen is a secret, keep hoping,
why are the tears falling down cause your sad,
and stop using big words like your smart, enraged? your just mad,
and this blood you supposedly smeared on the page?
its ink you moron, for a poem called 3 days!
(2012)
i am bipolar, and this is describing a brief look into emotional thought process in one of my episodes. i wrote this write after i had a depressive episode after making it 3 days with out having one. i hope you can enjoy, relate and understand. thank you
