Fighting for sleep,
fighting for peace.

Manic, depressive
episodes, just
to start.

Doing everything I can
just to not
fall apart.

So I can
make it another day—
wake up
with a fresh start.

Tried to reset,
tried to see,

but the future is blurred,
and I can’t believe
I’m back at square one:

the battle
of the elastic
heart.

The knives
hit harder
this time,

but I’m not afraid.
I’m not afraid
to get back up,

and show the world—

I’m not broken.
I’m not folded.
I’m not out
for the count.