Invega

Andrea-Looking-Down-White-Wall

Mourning the loss
of the voices that root me on
Run faster, grow stronger, they say
You are not a clueless one, you are wise
you can make it through this, you have wits

I would rather have the exuberant highs
and crippling lows
Than to get lost in a sea of dead faces
I want to feel the breeze on my neck
and see signs in the falling leaves

Life can be boring
when the mind is still
I wished for that fire
of my brain to rage on

They replaced my happy pills, my strength
With something to dull me out
but they cannot take my power of the pen
which always outcompetes the sword

Feeling this on my own
I feel I don’t have an advocate within
I’m left alone in my head
I have to relearn how to be human
Turn everything over instead

Instead of a higher mind
That feeling of always a good time
Mourning that it’s fun going mad
So I continue my grief
The loss of my soul’s advocate
Be it real or imagined
Loss of inner chaos once had