“Bipolar Woman: Who Are You, Really?”


I had to stop telling myself that I was not good enough because I am sick

and that I am not shit…

because sometimes, I feel unfix-able

I am not to be fixed, only improvements….


Who are you, really?

I have knocked on the Devil’s door and waited patiently for that answer

I know what the sounds of suicide are like.

Sweet to the ears

in the darkness, all alone at the end of the bridge on Ann Arbor trail

with the noose around my neck

with the butcher’s knife before my stomach

Nothing scares me.

Who are you, really? I ask myself

I am a warrior

I have overcome

even though I have not quite arrived there yet

I am triumphant

I still exist

Who are you, really?

the world wants to know

the world tries to tell me

that I am not shit

because I have an illness

that many can’t always understand

well, you can have my patience

I have an ear to lend

a heart to hold

and a mind to teach you

because I am here

we are here

we are sick

and we are strong

and we are worthy

got damnit, you ask,

who are you, really?

I am standing tall on land

not drowning in the sea

so calming to a broken soul

no, I am walking back to shore

Who am I?

A person that chose life


every single time I chose me



copyrighted December 14, 2018


R.K.B. is an award winning self-published Author, Poet and Entrepreneur from Detroit, Michigan.

Visit her website to learn more, and stay updated on her upcoming works and events: http://www.intomywoods.com !


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