I had this image of love and nothing came close, not even the one I esteemed to be the "one".
My heart was disguised by anger....
below the surface brewed a concoction of hurt feelings and fear of the world.
I boasted to myself that I was as tough as any man and prided myself on the fact that amongst all the little girls I always stayed a true lady.
I was governed by my heart, a small vessel being thrown about ferocious waves as I begged the sky to bring on more.
And as high and mighty as I was, I was finally brought down, humbled and humiliated in the form of psychosis.
If life was a poker game, it was my mind that held the royal flush.
In retrospect it was as if I had been a car stuck in the mud, spinning it's wheels in place creating a deeper hole---one day shooting out at full speed with no control.
The image of the mighty little ship was lost.
After seven days with no sleep and little food, I quit making sense.
The cops released me to state doctors.
They gave me titles like bipolar, psychotic and schizo affective.
Now everyone knew what I really was.
My heart was broken, my spirit sedated by the drugs.
I was a creature once--mighty and boastful, transformed into this thing of mercy.
To all those mighty ships out there, be mindful of your ratio to the sea.