Quite a Predicament… The Scourge of Mental Illness

Quite a Predicament…

Time is not on my side,
Not even remotely,
Time is my enemy,
As I have struggled to be who I want to be,
In the service of others,
Loosing track of me,
To the point that I have compartmentalized three I’s,
I and I and I,
Each purpose built,
By subconscious realities,
To protect me,
Uplift me,
Propel me to live for just one more day,
Consistent with who and what I think myself to be,
Consistent with my Phoenix soul,
Alighting this Warrior Poet,
The blood of my ancestors,
The Irish brogue,
And the brash Scottish strength,
For I am what I am,
And this horrendous struggle is nothing,
Compared to the toil that those who know me face,
Family, Friends and lovers all,
Caught in the web of an ever increasing conundrum,
As I run away,
I run away,
But not from you, my family and friends,
No, I’ve run,
Far enough away that the city that scares me,
The inhabitants that cause my paranoia,
The streets lining my anxiety,
Simply by existing,
And I am not satisfied with existing,
NO, I want to live,
I want to breath in life,
That I may exhale words,
I want to eat my sorrows,
That I can reclaim the parts of me,
That I know,
That I need to know,
That only I can know,
For I will not reveal,
To you,
You,
Or you,
What I, I and I face,
I will not reveal to you,
The descending cloud of madness,
Over thought,
Over wrought,
Never sought,
These spinning conclusions,
Of a mind in revolution,
Rather than a revolutionary mind,
Wondering is there room for both,
There has to be room for both,
If I am to go on,
Can I claim all that is I,
To finally be whom and what I am,
Can I take stock of and hold,
The inner child and demons,
The parts of me that frighten you,
Entice you,
Excite you,
Making you feel what you feel,
So from my safe castle,
In Northern Ontario,
Where I fight these demons,
And the clock,
Where I struggle with my own understanding,
Knowledge and self awareness,
As the hours tick by,
And the days lead to weeks,
Weeks to months,
And months to years,
And I continue to spin,
Hopefully into and not out of control,
I understand your worries,
Your troubles,
And considerations that break you in two,
Four or a million little pieces,
Wanting to follow your heart,
While being lead by your head,
I understand,
I really do,
And time,
Time is not on my side,
And seemingly never has been,
But tomorrow,
As they say,
Is another day,
One day further away from my struggle,
One day closer to my arrival,
At the summit of my life,
The mountain that I must scale,
Zenith and all,
Back to me.

SDM

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