Broken (A Poem)

Broken

Crazy

Crybaby

Screwed up

Bipolar

I’ve heard so many names.

Some would hit harder than others.

Some would bounce off like rubber hitting pavement.

But I think it depends who it’s coming from,

More than what they’re saying.

Someone I don’t know,

Could call me over dramatic

And I couldn’t care any less.

But then, those words came out of your mouth

And I shattered to pieces.

The reason is easy, the recovery is the hard part.

She called me “Crazy”

Like it’s normal.

But I cry for help, knowing something’s wrong in my head

And it’s hormones.

I can’t live with excuses forever.

I am broken,

but maybe if we catch it fast enough

Someone can save me.