midnight poem
09.16.2024. flash poem
this is my first time staying awake until midnight
since leaving the psych hospital.
i’ve passed out around 9 pretty much every other night.
these psych meds… gotta adjust to them…
i love being awake at midnight;
it’s when i feel the most alive,
especially the 4 hours after.
sometimes it gets lonely night after night though,
but i don’t feel lonely anymore.
i don’t know exactly how to find you.
i don’t know exactly how or if i am supposed to look —
other than with the cars and the clothes.
i see you everywhere in the cars and the clothes…
black. blue. and gold. that’s you.
my brain feels so stimulated walking outside;
i love every second of it.
chasing patterns —
it’s what my bipolar and autistic brain loves most.
i haven’t told anyone about everything i see,
other than the infinity poem i wrote on the third,
that’s the closest i’ve gotten.
how would i explain it to someone?
i’m good with words, but i wouldn’t know where to start.
most people view me as this girl who does what she wants,
but i am actually someone who really likes to follow directions.
directions just often don’t make any sense to me…
what’s cool is i really get the cars and the clothes.
the music too.
you speak a language my brain understands.
“do you have time to chat with me?”
of course, i do.
and i would make time
every time my calendar told me i didn’t.
i was feeling really groggy after leaving the hospital,
but ever since i started walking outside again,
watching the cars and colors fly by,
i am feeling a lot more like my real self.
thank you for being patient with me.
it can take me a while to process things sometimes.
i am working hard to be stable.
i want to be healthy and find balance in my life,
i’m feeling good this week,
finding a balance like i’ve found it before.
the most important thing to my brain
is that i feel alive — really alive.
you’ve given that to me for 3 months now.
it helps my soul so much to know i am alive like this,
and that happens for me most often in these simple moments.
the colors. the coincidences, or nots. the patterns.
they do that for me.
thank you.
