The last Drop

April 6, 2017

 

 

 

Drowning in the bottom of a glass that seems to drain too quickly so you drown in the bottom of a bottle that finishes too soon.

Why does this act take control of your life?

As its effects, don’t affect you any longer.

Yet still you seek it on a regular basis thinking, that you might find solace or comfort from its sting

 

What’s going on inside of your mind is entangled and your judgement has become tarnished, as you cannot tell yourself that you love yourself. All you do now is just shout abuse at the world and those around you.

You hate you and want to do away with it all.

 

Moments of madness engulf you, as your heart becomes weighed down with your own anxiety. There is nowhere to turn, nowhere to run you think.

The room spins frantically and your eyes roll into the back of your head. As you cannot understand why the room moves and yet you're sitting still.

 

Only sleep can rescue you now, that is if your dreams don’t begin to disturb you.

 

You wake to a slight remembrance of the night before because of the dull ache on the side of your head and feel ashamed. You look down at the ground and wish it would swallow you whole.

 

And yet the very thing that made you hate yourself and feel ashamed, is the very thing that you will seek again for solace.The last DropWritten by N. T John-Baptiste(Taken from her poetry book: Manic thoughts of a Bipolar) Drowning in the bottom of a glass that seems to drain too quickly so you drown in the bottom of a bottle that finishes too soon.Why does this act take control of your life?As its effects, don’t affect you any longer.Yet still you seek it on a regular basis thinking, that you might find solace or comfort from its sting What’s going on inside of your mind is entangled and your judgement has become tarnished, as you cannot tell yourself that you love yourself. All you do now is just shout abuse at the world and those around you. You hate you and want to do away with it all. Moments of madness engulf you, as your heart becomes weighed down with your own anxiety. There is nowhere to turn, nowhere to run you think.The room spins frantically and your eyes roll into the back of your head. As you cannot understand why the room moves and yet you're sitting still. Only sleep can rescue you now, that is if your dreams don’t begin to disturb you. You wake to a slight remembrance of the night before because of the dull ache on the side of your head and feel ashamed. You look down at the ground and wish it would swallow you whole. And yet the very thing that made you hate yourself and feel ashamed, is the very thing that you will seek again for consolation.

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