The Poetry Marathon

The hour has now come
where the unprepared will falter
but those with foresight will be rewarded
Look to your neighbor to see
if they will fail or if they will stand tall
Do not dwell on the tribulations you overcame
and only focus on what comes next

I wish I was a good disabled person
that knew how to act and knew his place
That I did not see each day as a challenge
but rather understood that I should be hidden away

After all this time I still have not learned
and continue to work to achieve my dreams
In ignorance I maintain a belief
that I have something of worth to offer

I have been knocked down too many times
to not understand my place is on the bottom
And I have been overlooked too often
to attempt to assert that I belong here

It is my disability that defines me
what I lack is the totality of my existence
This world was not meant for me
and I long for the day when I will cow to that fact

Run farther
Always knowing
Justice cannot
Absolve this
Hatred anymore

See this
And trust
Nothing can
Deter or
Oppose this
Real affection

This was not the plan
How could it be?
For you to be there with him
and for me to again be alone
You were never committed to this
that is clear to me now

This was our problem
How do you not see that?
But you were not willing to fight
for this relationship, for my love
You were meant to be my last chance
at building something real

This is our end then
How do we move on from this?
Clearly you no longer care
how much you leaving me for him hurts
You were supposed to be the one
who would fix me

It is now hour ten
and I do not have more words
Try as I might the well has run dry
and my brain is no longer crafting phrases

I have searched my mind
Even in the deep recesses
Still I am forced to stare at a blank page
desperate to find something usable

This is the truest commentary
that though I searched no words were found
That this way I have chosen to define myself
will ultimately prove to be a lie

The night has crept in
eradicating the light
feel it consume you

There is just something about carrot cake
that seems to almost let me forgot
Forget that I am constantly at war with my brain
and that even the good days include skirmishes
And just for a moment not dwell on
all the ways I have managed to fail myself

It is as if the warmth of the spice cake
can entice me into ignoring the chaos
The chaos that exists between bipolar and trauma
that has left my brain looking like London in 1942
To ignore the disarray that comes from
never knowing why my brain is angry at me

As if the lusciousness of cream cheese icing
envelops me and keeps the despair away
Despair of knowing my diagnosis will not change
and that there is no respite from this fight
To shield me from the disheartening reality
that I will not be free from a hell of my own making

Know the conclusion before the
start this again and you will
understand what it is you
desire to be different this
time will not wait for you to
change this story to change yourself

Hold tight to the path I will
forge within yourself strength and
resolve that you will conduct yourself with
honor those who were here before
you cannot be the last to take up this
fight not for things but the people you believe in

Learn to see your own
value those who will always speak
truth is always decided by those in
power was never meant to be the driving
force yourself to let go of this social
construct for yourself a better reality

Listen for us in the wind
and know that we are coming
Armed with nothing left to loose
we will not give quarter
The time for violence is here
let your heart be afraid at our coming
Tomorrow I will wash my hands of you
but today I will stain them red
Hear our cries for justice
as no longer a plea but a battle cry

It is hard to leave the room
when you are the one
who lit the match
Because fulfillment only comes
when you see the flames
grasping for the ceiling
This is the curse of fire

Anytime I see a fire rage
it still fills me with awe
to think about its grandeur
Seeing how the flame
only grows as it destroys
is still my greatest joy
This is the curse of fire

I have long wondered
how it would feel
to dance that close to the flame
And often have to tell myself
that letting the fire consume me
cannot be undone
This is the curse of fire

The hotter it becomes
the easier it is
to get lost in its embrace
I have never lit a match
without intending to watch it
until the fire became me
This is the curse of fire