Bipolar Stockholm

Overstimulated
Little things weigh too much
Heavy in my arms
Scrape too hard

You have me
Prisoner
But I hold your hand
Shaped like the part of me escaping light
Shaped like strangers in dark rooms
Like empty bottles
Like ache-craving hysteric monsters
Sirens, screeching

I'll never let go if you pull me upwards
Always upwards

You have me, all of me
My child, cradled in layers of me
You hold me
I hold you

Hush, sweet soft prescription lullaby
I'll sing to you, lay you to rest
And I still can't bear to look into your face
And they tell me to never stop pushing you away

But I'm tired. You've worn me out
I'll stay the night
Will you let me sleep if I hold your hand?

Reviews

[Inject Positivity]

I understand the pain in the poem, very well expressed with perfect use of words... The poem flows well with the with the inherent meaning of it... The title is superb no doubt...

Sincerely
Dhiman

[MinorArt]

Thank you, really, that means a lot.