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Every morning I get up.
I take a shower,
brush my teeth,
put on a little makeup,
and I pop a pretty, pink pill.
And because of this pill I am held as a symptom of the world
and a symbol of a generation.
People tell me, "You've got problems? The world has problems!"
They say my extremes
are the dying screams of a generation.
They say we used to be individuals
but then we were packed into boxes of Prozac and Lithium.
They say I bleed because the world bleeds.
But I bleed because I tried to kill myself,
and my pain is from something in my brain that doesn't work right.
And yes, I live in a box.
But that box of light
in a garage at night
was a haven I could not leave,
'cause if I tried
I would have died
and demons from hell would have dragged me down!
And that is not a metaphor.
That is a panic attack.
And how dare you tell me that who I was then
is any better than who I am now?
'Cause who I was then couldn't squeeze a word out
But who I am now wrote this poem to shout.
And that, to me, spells progress.
So every night
I wash my face to be a little cleaner,
I brush my teeth to be a little sweeter,
and I take a tiny turquoise tablet to be a little stronger
for another day.
- Title: It's My Bipolar World
- Artist: Beacon
- Description: This is a slam poem I wrote a while ago after I had an argument with a friend. I've only performed it once and I prefer performing it to having it read, but I figured I'd post it here to see what people think.
- Date: 01/03/2009
- Tags: slam poetry
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