DESPERATION

Please, please – not again.

I see the horror about to enfold me once more.

Slowly creeping in my direction.

I am but a child, here in my home.

One with no power, one – not a woman,

One – overthrown by these feelings headed my way,

but felt now in the present.

I beg – do not return!

But maybe, just maybe I can escape.

Begin to drink myself into oblivion.

Find some Lysergic acid diethylamide

Run away. Leave.

To infiltrate my life once more.

Bipolar. Shouldn't affect me any further.

But the knowledge of this return...

Has me reeling in shock.

Why should I return to what I once was?

Is it right that I should deal with this alone?

How fair is it that you always take the other side?

How right that I cannot speak?

I am weakened and angry.

For I know the outcome.

Know that and what you will choose and allow.

I know my DESPERATION.

But what is there that I could possibly do?

No tears, no unhappiness, no bearing my soul,

would possibly make a difference.

So maybe I should just give up.

Be done.