I've secluded myself.
Bedridden for almost two years...

Can't you see?
That I'm lying on the floor...

I've found,
That pinot grigio...

How can it be?
That i'm counting these days...

Then one day,
The tears refused to fall from her eyes...

This mental illness is such a finicky thing...
In one whole moment...

"A rose by any other name, would smell just as...
-Shakespeare...

Manic,
Manic episodes...

I’ve become a prisoner-
A hostage...

Inside my mind,
There is a war...

This is me now-
A heart woven from leftover strings...

It's the simplest activities in life,
That are somehow becoming much more complicated...