Category Five.

A flaw, perhaps,
Or crippling disease
Call it what you will
so maybe they won’t know,
won’t understand
what it’s like
To be trapped in your own
Head —
To be amidst a never ending war,
The battlefield of which it is waged.
North versus south,
Without impulse, no rest
the catch of twenty-two
years of life.
I can’t stop it,
Cannot control it
I am powerless, I am fragmented
And I am afraid.

But days come
when I feel Nothing,
Maybe even a twisted version of normalcy.
Plateau, the calm before
I feel elated like I am
Elevated, the Great Tsunami–
Oh sweet sweet mania,
Crashing waves!
And Suddenly I am drowning
I am paralyzed.
No soul, only body
Without strength
I lose momentum and I
Wither away.

Categorized,
Defined,
and destructive.
I am a hurricane.

-pe
2014

.

.

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