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Hidden away inside my head,
Some days it is so full of dread,
The worst comes from within ourselves,
The sounds of failure always dwells,
But times convince of true confessions,
Where love, caring and real compassions,
Sneak out through the bumps and cracks,
Escape outside to roam free and get snacks,
We then crawl back into our tiny homes,
Protected from the life around our domes,
We look to become invisible and soak in despair,
So we can avoid people and let time pass with no care,
Life is heavy and with due respect,
I like to hide away and just reflect,
It's a life of a hermit, recluse or disabled,
My handicap is not a myth or a fable,
Bipolar people can seem happy and free,
But trapped inside our own mind for no one to see,
With these words, I pour out my cry for assistance,
Confusion, withdrawal, depression without resistance,
There are days I am lost and without a true course,
A day doesn't go by that I feel no remorse,
Numbness and darkness are my only friends,
On this journey which includes loneliness with no trends,
I cry so much that my insides are dry,
My heart hurts, my spirit weeps and I want to die,
But I find the strength to move on and live as me,
Whether I like it or not, I can't truly see,
The world around is filled with craziness and light,
We pick and chose what we witness so bright,
I close this poem with a word of advice,
Everything we choose comes with a steep price.