Poem: I Love too Hard

I love too hard,

because I have never

found it easy,

to believe in it.

Love isn't my go to

ingredient for red velvet

cupcakes or the secret

to ending my depression.

I always thought it was

a chemical reaction,

something to end the

bipolar thoughts.

To stop the racing

of the brain, end the

cutting of wrists

that turned into

monkey bread.

After all, I'm bananas in the head

because It's easier than calling me insane,

to show me that my walls

are covered in pink frosting,

that my veins are just the aftermath

of a bad crime scene & my blood is the bottle

of posion used within every Shakespear novel.

The body is used as parchment

paper, my tongue as the pen,

wayward tears for ink,

knitting needles trying

knit my neurons back into

place.

Cause love for me is a high,

it's like being on top of the world.

Never knowing if my love is real

or if my saddnes is a true product

of my emotions.

I never know if

I'm feeling true love

or deep down inside

its fake because highs & lows

never make sense to me.

Somedays I will feel lost,

my depression will be my king,

my bipolar my queen,

& my mixed feelings

my black knight in shining

armor in a gaint chess game

I will never succeed in.

I will have days when I love coffee

& days I'm not sure

If I do; with the same

way I love you.

My heart & mind somedays fight.

The mind saying I don't

& the heart saying I do

but the mind tortures

me to break up with you,

while the heart reminds

me I love you.

My mood changes

like a light switch

as my feelings take

a corner to one

day feeling everything

& to some days feeling

nothing.

My emotions run

its course but a stop

sign never stops them,

a green light never makes

them faster & a yellow

light never slows

them down.

Needing reassurance

comes in waves,

it sparks in my brain

like a sparkler,

waiting to be drowned

with a bucket of holy water.

I hate my emotions.

Even God can see they

aren't good for me.

I try to throw them into

garbage cans, toss them

like toxic waste

because my mood changes

become to much too handle.

They invade my personal

space, make me snort

pixie sticks & rush my brain

to feel like its on pure sugar

as though I have sugar plum

faries pulling at every part

of my brain.

Its like I'm another fairytale

thats too hard to love,

another love story that loves too hard,

that became a tradgey because in this one

the princess is the product

of insanity.

I am just another evil queen,

that was a princess that was never

saved because love has always been

a second too late.