Marina Abrosimova

A Poem About Chasing Stability

My mind is chaotic
My thoughts are running fast
Taking meds feels robotic
I relive my past

Trauma. Tragedy. PTSD.
Bipolar. Anxiety
Damaged or just wounded?
A misunderstood personality

Where is my mind, someone help me
People are cruel, I misunderstood you
People are kind, you knew me with time
But you didn’t truly know me at all

Have I been blessed with bad luck
I pick me up when I fall
Pick up, pick up, pick up
When I cannot stand, I crawl

I crawl to a place that’s comfortable
But uncomfortable at the same time
Which level of feeling uncomfortable
Is easier for my mind

My mind is chaotic
My thoughts are running fast
Taking meds feels robotic
I swallow them even when I crash

It is when I no longer know myself
I could not tell you where I have gone
I watch as I put all I was on the shelf
I mourn all that I lost, all that went wrong

I am terrified to die
Just as I am terrified to live
When I ask myself why
I tell myself it is what it is as

I say prayers in my mind
I pray that good luck will be mine
I pray and I wish and I wish and I pray
That change is coming my way

I count to 10 as I walk
Hoping to slow my thoughts
The world hands out a heavy tab
I can’t always pay the cost

I often feel I cannot be cured
I often wonder how much I can endure
I often seek out hope
So I can continue to cope

But I want more than that
I have so much more to give
I need to relieve some of the madness
So I can truly live