occasionally
i wonder what i
could have accomplished
with a normally
functioning brain
exploring the world
unbound by bipolarity
contentedly living
always sure of my
surroundings and able
to trust my own mind

in the worst times
it sounds like paradise
if not a bit mundane
savoring the simplicity
in random existence
able to cast off doubt
and accept this instance
of bubbling insanity as
normality in distress
an acceptance rather
than being an exception
carrying about without
expectations coloring
everything in shades of
exceptional denials

but the understanding
everything i have experienced
while colored by crayons
in borderline hues brought on
by traumatic turbulences
is entirely my own
no carbon copy chicanery
smoothing the wrinkles of
my misfiring synapse laden
tub of electrified jello
which allows a glimpse
behind the curtain to a
spasmatic sluice of
incendiary truths of which
there can be no denials
even if no one else seems
to see anything the same

i could have been happy
as an entirely sane person
i am almost positive
but i prefer being whatever
this mess of rampant emotions
in a slowly decaying meat suit
spewing ugliness in broken
lines of lowercase venom is
even through the waves of
nauseating confusion which
do little but compound the
incessant miseries while
agitating acrimonious anxiety
in a consistency of desires
to escape the tantalizing trap
of existing as an outsider

my form of suicide is survival
killing off these pieces of myself
in an act of biblical spite
while forcing myself back up
each day to spit in the
unblinking eye of eternity
as i carve scars across beauty
leaving scraps of madness buried
in festering wounds while blowing
dandelion dander to pollenate
a new generation of pedantic poetry
all because i see an establishment
which just needs a little push
to accelerate the brink of collapse

i could never be normal
whatever the fuck that is.