Bipolar

I wish I could turn my brain off, so it could rest.

That I could stop, thinking about the issues, I’m forced to think about, as a black person, in this, united states.

I wish I could tell my brain to calm down, it’s not urgent and that I don’t have to do everything, all at the same time.

I wish I knew why, I get emotional and cry, for no particular reason, like now.

Like earlier.

Why can’t I, not think about death?

And why does a long life, seems like a death sentence to me?

Why does getting well means, being a pharmaceutical guinea pig?

Why can’t I just be, Well?