Scars

Not every tear I cry is bipolar,
but every scar on my arms is.

Bipolar does not make me restless all day,
But it keeps me up long into the night.

My bad days, or bad mood are not my disorder
or PMS
Some days it’s stress,
some days its people,
and some days
It’s just a fucking mood.

Not every thing I buy is because I’m manic
Sometimes I just need a new pair of shoes.

You’ll never know the world inside my head,
Be thankful you don’t.
I try so hard to explain it to you
But the words never come out right.

You don’t know how much I hide from you
You don’t know how hard I fight to be normal.
You don’t see thousands of tears that I cry.
Or how embarrassed I am when I know that I’m off balance.

You don’t know how much that I hate this,
Or how often I feel like a freak.
You can’t know how often I feel
Like I blame so much on my disease.

I know that deep down inside that I’m worth it
Even when I screw up everything
You have no idea how much that I need you
Or to count on you to guide me through
The storms that rage in my brain.

Not every tear I cry is my disorder,
But every scar on my arm is.
Each one has a date, a trigger
A phase, a swing, an episode.
To me they are reminders
How bad it can get.

I hate what this does to you, and to me
I pray someday I’ll be normal
And you’ll know that I’m worth it
And the scars will all fade away.