writing poems and music
is very therapeutic

so to the mentally ill,
to those going through more pain trying to heal,
it helps to write it down

i think the only thing keeping me grounded
is the pen in my hands and the way my palm wraps around it

i realized i was mentally ill when i fell in love through someone else's eyes,
that the way he looked at her was the way he looked at me,
when really,
that was all lies

and the layers of my wretched heart peel
at the daunting realization. . .

he's not even real.

and sadly. . . i'm not sure
i know what that is anymore.

or if i ever did.

and the lid
to the bottle i'm constantly over filling, is once again being screwed on tight,
in hopes i win this fight.

this fight called life.