And The Bad Thoughts Come Again

It’s always a struggle
The drugs I need make me feel like shit
My thoughts are all clouded,
So I lash out because it helps a bit

No medication
I spiral deeper into grief and shame
It’s my only freedom
That’s when all the bad thoughts come again

Swing them from the gallows
Bury them deep in a vacant lot
I’m slow and methodical
Bind their mouths just to shut them up
Slice them open
Watching as their blood pools on the ground
Adrenaline flowing
Know higher rush is there to be found!

Bipolar is my nature
Stay away or it might be worse than you think
I’d like a word with my creature
Cause the hand I was dealt here surely stinks.
I have tried suicide
But I can’t find the method that will work.