TW: Psychiatric Medication I wrote this rough draft of a poem a few years ago for spoken word and never came back to edit it, but I really like it. To me, it represents finding the balance in my psychiatric medication and sort of losing myself by being over-medicated but losing my ability to maintain my relationships with people who matter to me by being under-medicated. This is the time of day When the oceans roar The messy crash of salty waves is pain But the tearful surge is the herald of my reward They're coming back My thoughts are riding on the clouds Where I used to live My wonderings crashing in the pattern of my name Here comes the Storm Boatless, I'm dead man's floating out to sea Will I go into that hurricane? Will I float until the waves lift me to the clouds, Not into the eye of the storm, but in the swirling winds? The swirling of that storm is where I once discovered lightning The fury of
.Being.Us: ~ Compassionate, introverted, intelligent, creative ~ Autistic, chronically ill, mentally ill, disabled ~ Service dog owner ~ Lover of nature, art, science fiction, playing flute, cats, nonverbal DND campaigns