~Stigma~ 

Smeared dullness

Catatonic stare

That’s what they think

Washed out color

Long halls painted grey

Not a door insight

Ideas out of focus

Stifling, confusing

Lack luster,  incredulous

emotions …….Clawing away the life fingers scraping their nails jagged and bloody, threads unravelling.. like the sound of a chalk board being scratched.

That’s what stigma, bias does isolates you.

Yet I exist Wrapped inside this cocoon~

Generic and uncategorized yet longing to be labeled and in a category ~ oh wait, I am… I fall under stigma mental illness under my skin, unseen yet relentless in my mind there are millions of my kind.

One size fits all as long as that size is extra large as to swallow my frame,as well as yours.

Swallowing my existence whole~

Preferably invisible~

Left unseen~

To myself~

Designated ~

As is~NJM

~I See You~

I see you
You’re in my vision
Every place, every face
Reminds me
I see you
In my mind, my dreams
Awaken thoughts
I see you
Around corners, great distance
The sky
I see you
Up close, far away
From the window
I see you
When I close my eyes, then open them again
In the lyrics of songs
I see you
I hope, pray, live my life each day
Wishing, wanting
I see you
In every picture, every glance
This seeing is not by chance
Ingrained in me that’s what you are
I see you
I see you and wonder when
I’ll truly see you again
In everything, every place, every face
Haunting, always wanting
I see you
Always~

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~In the Grey~It’s Where I’ll Stay~

I’m in the grey…….
Grey Chasm swallows
I’m in the grey it’s where I’ll stay for now
I will not attempt to move quickly
Nor will I be rushed
Do I fascinate?
Do I invoke fear? Hate?
Perfectly negate?
Am I your guilty pleasure…
Is there no distance yet to measure?
I’ll create my walls
Build my tower strong
Brick by brick no matter how long
Exterior crusted over with
Innuendos and regret
I’m in the grey
I will not be pulled away
In this Chasm I will stay
Until I decide, until that day
You can not reach me… There is no definitive here
No truth or lie
If I want to stay until I die
It’s then a matter of choice
The beauty of my grey instilled in me a voice
Slowly it drips…..spill forth from my lips
Turning my words to black and white
Finally to distinguish which is wrong and which is right
But I shall not take flight oh no, I will move slowly with precision
At the end of the day it’s my decision
For now I’m in the grey area
Safely in my tower, walls erected
While my thoughts become collective
Selective
In the grey

~Bipolar Thoughts~Poetry~NJM~

Words pour out spinning in my mind

Gravity for these thoughts often impossible to find.
Subject to subject whirl in my head
Concentration is gone dead. Interruption easy I’ll spit it out quick, why? Because my thoughts are amazing more important than yours screw all these rules and your feelings too I simply lack a filter….apology not happening well later perhaps after yet more thought
What a price to be reckoned with it must be bought!
Jumping through constellations and flying past stars, the energy I feel could jet me to Mars. Hypomanic confidence seeps right on pass I’m certain if you don’t know me you would think me an ass.
Polarity at its finest as I try to refine, but all these thoughts and these feeling might leave me behind. Cohesive qualities try to keep me in tact but it is what it is this is a fact.
Would it be so horrible to just be this or stay that, well I must tell you I’d feel rather flat. I can never just be this or be that I am what I am a wonderment of confusion, I’ll make you see a flip side, leave you disillusioned.
It’s not that I’m trying to get in your head, see I’m already there you may think not, but I can spit out your words first seep in your mind and the words that escape you somehow I find.

~The Depressive Side of Bipolar~

There are two modes of bipolar 1, as well as bipolar 2. In fact in all bipolar diagnosis you have two modes. Some of the bipolar labels have mixed modes which means being hypo manic and depressed at the same time.

I can remember clearly at the beginning of my diagnosis waking up feel grand happy, beyond happy, only to feel like suicide may be the only answer later in the day.
I’ve written a piece of what a manic episode feels like. I’m going to try to give you what the depressive episode feels like.
Unlike depression which is another form of mental illness, bipolar depression although similar is more severe.
So let’s begin. Please keep in mind these are my experiences.
It’s a subtle sneaky liar that begins softly in the mind, growing into a monster within hours. The littlest things can evoke tears and regrets and fears that on a scale of 1-10 it’s an 11. Which means it’s beyond the norm,
What I mean by littlest thing is the catalyst can be just the loss of something, something you feel certain you put there, such as a book or a your shoes. Why surely I remember clearly that’s where I put them!
Truth be told I just think that. Because later the item will be found. The item may often be very close by where I thought I put it, and as though I have blinders on I simply am not registering it’s right in front of me.
This begins the tail spin,then thoughts begin, you know all the reasons why everything is not right how could it be I absolutely know where I put this item, this thing.Obviously I didn’t. It seemed as though I did put it there, not the case.
The thoughts continue and start to make me feel stupid hopeless and disillusioned by all injustice I feel exist in the world.
Next my thoughts take me to what I like to call the exit door. The exit door is basically suicide. Thoughts seem to rationalize that being non existent will solve all problems I’m incurring. Not being around anymore I don’t have a meltdown and this sounds like a good idea, or at least at the moment it does.
I will lay down and begin what call the stages of loss. Anger, disappointment, the “Why me” syndrome, finally arriving at the fact that I’m afraid. Afraid of what you ask? The unknown, the lack of courage to carry out the task of going through the exit door. Yes, I just used the word courage. I wrote a long piece of why suicide takes courage. In order to understand you would not only need to read that piece, but be me, think like me.
This mode can last for only hours, a day, sometimes days. Then just like a snap of a finger abracadabra bam it’s all good again, life is ok and onward I go.
Normal reaction by those not afflicted with bipolar reach depressive states in extreme loss. Loss such as death of a loved one, a terminal illness that will take a life quickly ( by the way bipolar is indeed a terminal illness and can indeed take life away) a loss of a pet, breaking up with a lover or spouse, losing a job, these are a few examples. However for me and my reaction the normal (by the way define normal…. Yeah exactly) reaction is I thrive under real pressure or loss.
My experience with the lows of bipolar may differ from yours, I’m here to share, to educate, communicate, and break the stigma. In order to do so we all must share. Find your voice share let’s compare then let’s see where we can all go from there. Thank you to those who took the time to read this.

~Polluted Mind~

And so it was, this day
Unlike the other, I wake to find

The fowl stench of my mind
Stale and putrid

This place is familiar
A swamp of murky water

Thoughts are draped like Spanish moss suffocating an Oak tree

It Takes hold clutching my thriving soul
Pulling me , pressing

Sinking further, downward
Spiraling awkwardly
Falling……faster

Acutely aware of my condition
But gambling with my life
I throw the dice

Lacking all conviction
Unable to achieve the desired outcome

I will awake between this world
Hinged on each realm
by only one dimension

It’s cold, veiny hand
Will caress my brow

While quietly I resign
Only to awaken yet again
To this polluted state of mind.

~Water Fall Dipped Dream~great read!

The most important things are the hardest to say~With that my soul is shattered…..Out of all things in life I’ve lost my mind is the one thing I miss the most…. so go

Catch  my thoughts in between a hazy morning and a rainy afternoon~clouds are optional~ storms inevitable but most interesting indeed~given in to thoughts you now feed~oh how I’ve searched for the lost places my entire life, places where dreams drip over waterfalls…And spectacular colors

To catch the spectrum

Prisms with possibilities

A place to be home

Be with me

Wear your sin

Upon my skin

Laced around the words

That I breathe in~forever floating together in the middle of the ocean………

Lost into one another

Yet so far away~

~Fat Tuesday~

Fat Tuesday is here

my Darlin Dear

Preemptive plight

Planned party

Late night

Mardi Gras is here

It’s that time of year

skies hued

yellow, purple, green aglow

The sounds clamoring

Fighting to outdo

each musical note

There we were dancing

Swaying to the beat of the

Floats the heat

Jazz music fills the streets

Down Canal street turning round to
cross over to Bourbon~

Take in each shot

Preemptively planned

Glass in hand

Other hand in yours

Flying high

beads round our neck making music

of their own

Debris in the streets

Faces smeared

Drunken flow

Dancing in flight

Cheap trinkets flying

Dashing, fighting, grinding

Preemptively planned party

Your eyes two lights flaming bright

watching your sexy arm

Light your Marlboro

Smiles and giggles

Two jokes only we are in on

Blowing your smoke out

Between your sexy lips

I get close and kiss your lips

Playfully biting the lower one

Endless fun

Pass that joint don’t bogard

It’s high time for all

It’s this night we aim to please

Preemptively planned plight

Gonna party all damn night

Then some more

On each street corner

Stands a whore

Sodom and Gomorrah

What a life Darlin what sight

Pulling you closer

Let this night never be over never be done~

The entire world is watching

All the court jesters

All the clowns

All the kings and queens on floats wearing their crown~

Hey that’s a decent poison

Crown Royal over rocks

Splash of water barkeep please

Don’t be stingy now pour long don’t tease~

Walking don’t dare run

And then it fades

Leaving, lingering

Till next year we preemptively plan again for this night~

Fat Tuesday Darlin Dear

I hear you whisper in my ear

As we float high above the rest

Preemptive plight party all night

Fat Tuesday

Madri Gras

We will do it again and again

Mardi Gras never ends~

Not for reproduction

~NJM

~Poe Park~

Just as you are

How can you not see

just as you are

Is no better than me

You stood by the subway

Looking back

Your hair a mess

Where is the color

In your face

Where are you going

Why are you leaving this place?

Jeans are to big

You lost to much weight

I want you to know

Just as you are

I still love you

Drugs and all

Am I the opiate you had to leave

Was I your heart you wore on your sleeve?

Was it the cocaine fueled night

Downtown all that flair

Dancing and swinging

To the beat

Full of fire

Full of heat

If I’m your drug

Don’t detox me

I love you just as you are

See?

Our eyes glassed over we love the drugs hip hop baby like well dressed Thugs~

Feeling the textures

Giving the hugs

Drinking the water

Sweat pouring down

You were my king baby

You wore the crown

So you grab your glass of Macallan Whiskey you keep in your bar~
Take a deep sip

Then with a tip

You swallow the rest

Damn dear Darlin

This is not a test

Whiskey fueled nightmare

So where is your blue label scotch

Sure that will be next

Line of cocaine

And forget all the rest…….Of them

I sit on the benches

In Poe park

Children running

Dirty feet

Smudged faces

Where are you going

To what places

I love you just as you are

Like my Austin Sculpture art

Whimsical fantasy

Limitless treasure

How I remember

The museums

Our secrete pleasure~

I feel you used me like many before

You used them then like waddled paper on the floor~

You showed them out of your door

You were done

You took what they gave you

You had your fun

So here I sit in Poe park


Was I like them

Did you discard me

Like chewing gum

You had to taste

Then spit me out

Into the street

Where I got stuck beneath your feet?

I still love you

Just as you are

I’ll be in the park

I’ll bare the scar

My heart feels

Empty as you headed

Down the subway

You look away

I want you dear Darlin

Please stay

Sit with me on the bench

In Poe Park

We can be that sculpture

Living art

I still love you

Just as you are

Look for me when your back

I’m your brightest star

I’ll still be me

Only not free

And I’ll still love you just as you are

Not for reproduction~

~NJM~

Gone is Sunday’s Rest~

There was a time where time did move slowly calculated differently~

Humble beginning
From brutal wars~
We all bare the scars
Of our history of all wars
Fought~
A time where God was revered
A time where many feared~
Then some stood up
Spoke a strong truth
An uprising inspired by the youth
That day~
Conflict contained?
No. Look around foolishly we believe yet in lies~
Sadly we eat what they feed us eagerly~
Children of all the times never truly protected~
Further more the Poor, hungry, homeless, rejected, neglected~
A time where stores closed on Sunday’s the world did rest on that day, in honor of the Lord, the very notion that sparked all wars~
Quiet was heard on Sunday
Like a Christmas holiday
Quiet energy radiating as all took rest, refuge around the dinner table~
Then Machines gave rise through men’s eyes
Able computers doing what hands had been hired
In this many jobs lost, people fired~
Clogging up lives, red tape causing rape, news travels at unbeatable rates, instantly communicate~
Cops get away with murder and rape of people and youth, twisted all the stories turning lies into truth,What of protection? ah yes a broken connection~
There was a time where families gathered, and looked past the insanity of each other, embracing brother, mother, sister, father
Tolerance replaced by intolerance~
A time where children were quietly abused
Now children are loudly treated as adults they are often used, for fill ins, mind games, stolen, runaways, used for porn and sickness of men
Times has it changed much then?~
From beatings by hands of a Mom or a Dad oh the children cry out, so sad
You’re that child still, you, me
But we chose to forget, not see~
Time it changes~
It echos impervious
Yet alters,  leaving illusions, confusion~
Population out of control
Not enough can go around
People subdued no rising up
Cloned, drones marching onward without a sound~
Revolutions things of the past
Time long gone
Machines compute making our voice mute
Just a text~
Busy busy on the go
Did you know, we once rested on Sunday?
Time handled carefully, treasured and indeed measured by standards long lost
Human race you did not count the cost?~
Insanity is cool, disorders separate, labels everywhere often causing hate
War we still are, that is we are at war
Not winning, not by far~
Comfortably some sit, afforded the bliss of ignorance~
Could they be the ones who could bring about difference?
Won’t know, complacency rules
No not one can be used as needed for tools~
Time once moved slowly
Sunday’s we took rest,
Personally think it best~
Time not captured but in a memory
Believe we should take rest~
Mixture of times both then and now
Mingling to concoct a recipe
To level, even it out~
Would a revolution shout out bring about needed change?
All lives rearranged~
We used to rest and revered Sunday’s~
Quiet as a holiday where energy is mellow and slow, resting peacefully on that day, we all stopped at once~
There was a time
But it’s gone~